Housemating Season
by AngryBadgerGirl
Summary: Bella's a freshman at Dartmouth who lives with 5 upperclassmen, including broody Edward, a vegetarian with a fixation on vampires. Plot line similar to the original Twi novel w/o the cockblocking and with more laughs. LEMONS, AH, canon pairings, BPOV.
1. How to Lose Friends & Disinterest People

**A/N: I've been getting a lot of requests to have this fic available again. I have no plans for doing anything with it so I'm disseminating it publicly. Thanks to everyone who keep asking to read it again. I didn't realize anyone gave a turd. ;o)**

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.  
**

**BPOV**

**Chapter One: How to Lose Friends and Disinterest People**

"_I'm a new soul  
I came to this strange world  
hoping I could learn a bit 'bout how to give and take  
But since I came here, felt the joy and the fear  
finding myself making every possible mistake…"_

—Yael Naim, "New Soul"

So here I am, Bella Swan—officially a college freshman at Dartmouth. It's my first day in New Hampshire and I feel…good. The feeling I have isn't insanely awesome, but it isn't horrible either. It's a mixture of excitement and fear of the unknown. I like being challenged like that, to be honest. I'm up for whatever comes my way.

On the other hand, I never thought I'd move so far from my adopted hometown of Forks, Washington. I'm originally from Phoenix but moved to Forks to live with my dad when I was seventeen. My mom remarried after being divorced from my dad for many years. I liked my step dad and was happy for my mom. But honestly, their marriage was the start of a new life for them that I didn't especially want to intrude upon. What I mean is there was a vibe around them that frankly made me kinda weirded out. There was the constant kissing and snuggling, the sweet nothings and "honey" and "sweetie." It was like Valentine's Day everyday with those two and I felt like a voyeur or creepy peeping tom around them.

My mom deserved all the romance and happiness, but I thought I deserved to feel comfortable in my own house. So the perfect opportunity came in the form of my dad, Charlie. I used to spend summers with him as a kid. It was fun until I realized there was nothing interesting to do for people over the age of ten, unless you were the outdoorsy fisherman type. On top of that, the weather just plain sucked. But in spite of that stuff, my dad was a decent guy who didn't talk much, but when he did, he was always honest and straightforward. My dad was no-nonsense—very "meat and potatoes." He was easy for me to get along with and made the ideal person for me to live with. So at the beginning of my junior year, I moved in with him.

My high school AP English teacher was a Dartmouth graduate. She came up to me on my birthday senior year (in September) and handed me a thick yellow envelope. She just said "fill this out and mail it. Don't think about it. Just do it. I'll write you a letter of recommendation. Have a happy birthday." I didn't have to look at the packet closely to know it was an application to Dartmouth.

When I got home that afternoon I did end up thinking about it, but just a little. I honestly didn't know what my chances were of getting into an Ivy League school. But I did know that I didn't want to go to UW in Seattle. It seemed like everyone in the graduating class of Forks High who planned on going to college was enrolling at UW. I was never a "follow the crowd" kind of person. I needed to do something different and this was my chance to do that.

The truth is I had good grades. Literature was always my passion and I submitted papers to all kinds of student journals around the country. I got published in some very respectable ones, all nationally recognized and pretty selective. I volunteered at the nearby Native American reservation in nearby La Push tutoring elementary school kids in reading. I worked as a clerk at the Forks police department since my dad was the sheriff. These were the "well rounded" qualities I knew the more competitive colleges were looking for. I figured "fuck it, the worst that can happen is I get rejected." To my sheer and utter delight, I did _not_ get rejected. Translation: I ran around my house screaming and jumping for an hour. Even my very even-keeled dad got caught up in my craziness. "You did good Bells. I knew they'd be crazy to turn you down," he said with a huge grin on his face. He gave me a tight hug and a pat on the back.

My dad is with me today to help me settle in but is flying back home to Forks later this afternoon. I just got my housing assignment today after not knowing all summer where I'd end up. It turns out the school has a really bad housing shortage this year and the housing office is scrambling to place freshmen wherever there's space.

I look at the piece of paper with my assignment on it. It says

Name: Swan, Isabella M.

Location: Meyer Cluster, #913. Co-Ed

I cannot believe my luck. When I say luck, I'm purposely not saying whether it's good or bad. First of all, judging by my campus map, Meyer Cluster is a group of houses for upperclassmen. Cool, right? Um, yeah, it's cool if you consider yourself a cool person. Second of all—did that say _Co-ed_?!? These houses have male and female residents. They don't share bedrooms but they probably share common areas…like bathrooms. Crap! Charlie is gonna go nuts. Not to mention, I'm no prude but I don't know how I feel about sharing space with the opposite sex. I just hope they aren't slobs or pervs. Looks like I'll be spending a lot of time in the library. Eh, some things don't change.

I tinker with the new keys in my hand and show my dad where we're headed.

"Bells, this says 'co-ed,'" he says as he looks up at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I know Dad. Trust me; I requested an all female freshman dorm. I wanted to live on the literature floor for English majors. This is where they had space, I guess."

"And you're OK with this, Bells?" he asks, looking a little apprehensive. Uh oh, here comes Papa Bear. "I don't really like the idea of college boys living in the same house as my daughter. I know you can handle yourself; it's _them_ I don't trust. I was a young guy once, I know how they think, and I know _what_ they're thinking!" he huffs as his left eyelid starts to do that crazy twitching thing it did when he's agitated. It's the only way to tell when he's getting worked up.

A comment like that deserves a flippant response. "I'll try my very best to defend my honor and virtue, Charlie," doing my best Scarlett O'Hara drawl while tilting my head back and pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. I always called my dad by his first name. It's been my way of showing affection for him in my own weird way. "Besides, if I live in a house with a kitchen, I'll get to cook my own meals. That alone makes it worth it," I add, seriously. My dad knows how much I loved to cook. It never felt like a chore for me, in fact it's like a favorite hobby that makes me happy. And not to be snobby or anything, but campus cafeteria food sounds totally unappealing to me.

It looks like that snapped him out of his overprotective mood and with resignation in his voice, he says "alright, well. Whatever makes it feel like home for you is fine by me, sweetie. Just know I'm only a phone call away." He's calmer now and his eyelid is back to normal. "Bells, I'm gonna miss your cooking," he says with a sigh. I know what he really means he'll miss. But that's what great about me and Charlie. He didn't have to say the exact words he was thinking for me to understand.

We navigate our rental truck through the massive traffic jams around campus and find our way to my new home for the next nine months. Meyer Cluster was a group of small two storey houses, surrounded by trees, their leaves now starting to change color for fall. It all looks so quaint. Beautiful reds, golds, and browns adorn the landscape. The small street has old black wrought iron lamps to softly light the night sky. The houses themselves look turn-of-the-century, made with red brick with beautiful arched picture windows. Of course, there's ivy growing along the sides of every house and a charming little chimney on each roof. There's a bay window in the center of every first floor with a large cushioned bench instead of a window sill—perfect for cuddling up on with a book on a cold snowy day. These homes are old but lovingly maintained. I feel like I'm looking at a postcard.

We find my house and there's chaos everywhere outside around the cluster. There are people moving their stuff in every which way. Cars are parked on the lawns and people are lugging their belongings in boxes, bags, and trunks. There's a frenetic energy in the air that I can't help but get caught up in. It's all about _possibilities_. It's all about taking a giant bite out of life and savoring every last morsel. It's time to start a new chapter in the book of Bella and I am _so_ up for it.

I get to the front lawn of my new house—913 Meyer Lane. The front door is wide open. Great, that good buzz I was feeling is now rapidly turning into anxiety. Someone is already here. I can literally feel insecurity wash over me in a wave. It's not that I'm shy per se. I just always seem to have trouble making a good first impression. It's pretty much a forgone conclusion for me by now that people always need a little extra time to get to know the real me. Not to mention, these new housemates were all older than me. It's likely they've known each other for a long time and have lived together before. Talk about a socially uneven playing field. I am doomed to be the odd one out here. I just know it.

I grab a box out of the back of the truck and head towards the door. I see someone walk out. Suddenly my foot gets caught on a stone in the grass and I stumble forward, launching my box full of toiletries into the air and they land scattershot all over the lawn. Shit, isn't this just perfect?

I look up and see the cover of Vogue staring down at me with a raised eyebrow. It's a perfectly shaped, highly arched eyebrow on a face that would make Heidi Klum look like a puddle of oatmeal. She has gorgeous blonde hair that cascades in perfect waves on her delicate shoulders. She looks like a combination of the beautiful Veronica Lake and the saucy Mae West. She's wearing a gorgeous silk red peasant blouse with a plunging neckline and snug khaki capris. I look at her feet—black patent leather peep-toe stilettos with that trademark red sole. I read the celebrity gossip blogs occasionally. Even someone as fashion-challenged as me can recognize Christian Louboutin heels when I see them. She's standing in the grass, on move-in day, wearing thousand dollar heels. This just keeps getting better.

I look up again at her face and she's glaring at me. She's still a vision, even when pissed off.

"Sweetie," she pushed out sharply between perfect, wintry white teeth. "Can you please not fertilize my lawn with your tampons?" Several people within earshot turn and giggle quietly.

I feel the sudden rush of heat to my face. Fuck! I hate the way I blush. It's so freaking stupid to react this way when I'm flustered. It makes me look like a socially retarded shut-in.

"Um, yeah, I'm sorry. I tripped and dropped my stuff," I stammer as I try to right myself back up. Another perfect first impression made by Bella. I swear, Murphy's Law was written just for me. Only I would encounter a complete goddess and trip like a spastic ostrich in the first minute I meet her.

"Yes, I saw that. Let me help you before you water the Ivy with your mouthwash," she replies dryly. She walks up closer to me and extends a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm Rosalie Hale. And you are?"

"Isabella Swan. Everyone calls me Bella," I reply as I shake her graceful, soft hand.

"Ah, Bella! Parlate italiano? Come siete? Amo Milano nella molla," she says, rolling the words easily from her tongue. Is she really speaking to me in perfect Italian? God I am so out-gunned, it's not even funny.

"Sorry, I don't understand Italian," I reply sheepishly. "I just happen to have an Italian first name because my mom liked it." I couldn't feel any less awkward and completely ordinary. Suddenly I'm like a teeny tiny goldfish in a huge ocean and a beautiful, cunning shark was trying to make idle chit chat with me.

"Oh," she says tilting her head and pursing her fire engine red lips. Geez, Dita Von Teese had nothing on this chick. "I asked how you were and said that I love Milan in the spring. I've spent time there both for pleasure and to work for Versace at their headquarters. I'm double majoring in Econ and French. I plan on working at one of the major fashion houses in Paris when I graduate, handling financials, mergers and acquisitions, and the like. I have an internship at Chanel lined up for next summer."

_Of course you love Milan in the spring and work in fashion and financials and speak a bunch of languages all the while managing a double major course load, you perfect creature with stunning features and cultured manners. Now let me embarrass myself further by admitting that I've never even been to Canada even though I lived in the Pacific Northwest for two years,_ I think to myself. _Oh and did I mention I only speak English and still count on my fingers?_

"Wow, Milan and Paris…" I mumble. _Nice response Bella. You simply ooze glamour._

"So, you must be our new housemate," she says. "I heard we're inundated with freshmen this year and campus housing has placed you here. Well, sorry you're stuck with us," she says, smiling warmly now. I think she understands the awkwardness of all this, and decorum demands that she be gracious. It's clear she's just following social protocol and not really trying to assuage my feelings. Sharks don't exactly cuddle, after all.

"Come, let me show you around. My movers will get your things, don't bother with it yourself. We've got more important things to do," she insists as she clears her throat loudly. Instantly, a man in a work uniform materializes by her side. With a flick of her hand and a few quick words, she sends him in the direction of my truck, its bed full of my things.

OK this chick has her own movers? What the fuck? She's got a staff of lackeys for move in day. I'm both terrified and blown away by all this. I feel like I'm on a different planet.

After polite introductions between Rosalie and my dad, I give him a list of things I need from the grocery store and some other sundries I neglected to bring with me from Forks. The movers have already gotten everything out of the back of the truck and onto the lawn. With a nod and a wave he drives off to run my errands.

Rosalie motions her head toward the front door. "I'll introduce you to the other housemates," she says, somewhat impatiently. She turns sharply on her beautiful but dangerous heel and starts walking, not looking back at whether I follow her or not.


	2. The Odd Couples and the Odd Girl Out

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Two: The Odd Couple(s) and the Odd Girl Out**

"_People I know, places I go, make me feel tongue-tied  
I can see how people look down, they're on the inside  
here's where the story ends  
people I see, weary of me showing my good side  
I can see how people look down  
I'm on the outside…"_

—The Sundays, "Here's Where the Story Ends"

I follow quickly behind Rosalie through the front door and when I look around, I cannot believe my eyes. It's like I walked into the house on the Real World on MTV. There's beautiful living room furniture arranged around a stone fireplace. The couches have plush, deep red upholstery and throw pillows of all shapes and sizes scattered on top. I can tell the pillows were placed that way to look "perfectly haphazard." The hardwood floor has big area rugs with bold modern designs and there are various framed reproductions of famous modern artwork on the walls. Even the light fixtures are cool—brushed stainless steel. I wonder sarcastically if Rosalie insists on designer light bulbs. Yeah, I bet she does. I chuckle to myself briefly.

Someone is standing on a short ladder in front of the fireplace, putting a gigantic flat screen TV on the wall. By the looks of this guy, he doesn't seem to be having any trouble handling the massive jumbo-tron that looks like it weighs more than me and Rosalie combined.

"Emmett, get over here," Rosalie orders brusquely. Only someone like her can talk to a guy that size in that tone of voice.

"Rosie baby I want to get this TV mounted so I can mount _you_ in a minute," he growls back playfully in a voice as big as he is. What. The. Hell? This guy is her boyfriend? I can only picture Rosalie on the arm of some dashing James Bond look-a-like with a bank account bigger than the sultan of Brunei's. But this guy, with his burly muscles, gruff voice and crude joking, I can't picture with her. Huh, I guess you never know.

"Emmett, you beast, get down! You're frightening the poor freshman standing next to me," she snaps. "Come and meet our new housemate before I kick that ladder out from under you."

He turns around and stares back at me for a second. Then he bursts out laughing this ear-splitting belly laugh and his whole face lights up like he's a kid at Christmas. Now I see why Rosalie is with him. He is ridiculously handsome. His face is strong and masculine, with big brown eyes and thick wavy brown hair cut short. He has that classic all-American air about him, with enormous, broad shoulders, and biceps that look like they can bench press a small compact car. He jumps off the ladder in one easy motion and barrels over to me.

"Hey there, sorry about the dirty talk. I didn't realize there was someone else in the room. I'm Emmett McCarthy. It's nice to meet you," ha says as he smiles that friendly high beam smile once again and extends his hand for me to shake it.

"Emmett, this is Bella Swan. She's from…from, where are you from, anyway?" Rosalie asks nonchalantly.

"I'm from a small town in Washington state called Forks. It's a couple hours' drive from Seattle," I answer, returning Emmett's smile.

"The Seahawks! Love that team. I think it's their year this year," he says.

"Yeah, that's what my dad says, only he says it every year," I reply with chuckle. He chuckles back and nods.

"Emmett plays first string on Dartmouth's varsity football team," Rosalie informs me. Then I notice a dark green capital letter "D" tattooed on his huge bicep. It's the school's emblem.

"Yeah, well someone has to make sure Harvard never wins a game against us," he says with a devilish smirk.

"So Bella, do you know what you plan on majoring in?" he asks.

"Oh I already declared my major in English. It's been my best and favorite subject pretty much ever since I learned to read. I may try to minor in Photography if I have time for it," I reply.

"That's cool. Maybe you can help me proofread my senior thesis. I can't spell for shit and my grammar sucks," he admits freely. Wait, this guy is writing a senior thesis? If I remember the Dartmouth undergraduate course information right, I thought that was an optional thing only for students in the top ten percentile of their major. Oh no. Not this guy too? Here's another one who's amazing looking and brilliant. Not only that, he's gregarious and charming too.

"Sure, I'd love to help if you need it. What's your major?" I ask.

"Philosophy. My focus is the on 19th Century Anti-Rationalists—Kierkegaard and Nietzsche.," he replies. "Despite the rugged exterior, I am a deep thinker and a serious academic," he says in a deliberately nasally voice while making a goofy squinty face. We both laugh. It's as if he read the skepticism on my face and wanted to dispel it, but without embarrassing me. Even so, I feel guilty about my obvious misjudgment of him.

"Well, kid, let me welcome you to our little den of sin. Feel free to hang with us if you feel like it. You can watch the TV whenever you want, but no one touches the remote except me!" With that, he climbs back up to finish securing the last of the loose brackets that held the flat screen to the wall. I could already tell that I liked Emmett. He had this warmth about him that belied his gruff appearance.

"This place looks amazing. I can't believe the way it's decorated. It's all so cool and nice. This can't be campus housing furniture," I gush. God, I sound like I just fell off an apple cart, flat on my ass. I couldn't sound more unsophisticated and geeky if I tried.

"Of course if isn't," Rosalie scoffed. "That campus junk is complete trash. I wouldn't let a dog sit on those rock hard sofas. I had that stuff taken out by the housing office and moved my own pieces in. That glass coffee table was imported from a Finnish designer who built it by hand," she tells me as she motions her hand toward the beautiful table in the center of the room. "Please be careful around it, it's one of a kind," she says with icy condescension. I remember my clumsy fall outside not more than a few minutes ago and shift uneasily on my feet.

Just then, a couple walking hand-in-hand ambles up the front steps and through the door. Their timing is perfect. After Rosalie's little snip about her table, an awkward silence descended on us and now it would disappear thanks to their arrival. The couple looks like a peculiar match physically. The girlfriend is a petite little brunette with an impish smile and close cropped hair. She's really tiny, like a gymnast or ballerina. She has eyes that just sparkle with energy and a happy glow. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, is really tall—well over six feet easily, with sandy blond hair and hazel eyes that look sad despite his smile.

They are both unbelievably good looking_. I have officially moved into a J Crew catalog, only the models were also intelligent to an absurd degree. It figures._

They walk in and instantly the girlfriend approaches me, flitting across the room with the energy of a hummingbird. "Hi! You must be the new housemate," she chirps. Even her voice is perky and light. "I can't tell you how happy I am to meet you. I'm Alice Brandon, and this is my boyfriend Jasper Whitlock." Jasper tilts his head down slightly and says "pleasure to meet you, ma'am" in the thickest southern drawl I've ever heard. No one's ever called me "ma'am" before. I resist the urge to be snarky and tell him he sounds just like Foghorn Leghorn and simply say "Hi, I'm Bella Swan," with a smile.

I shake both their hands. We exchange pleasantries about our hometowns and our study interests. Alice is an art history major from Philadelphia who wants to open her own gallery one day. Jasper is from Texas, studying Psychology with a minor in U.S. history, being a "die-hard Dixie lovin' rebel" and a fan of anything related to the Civil War. As it turns out, they all met when Alice and Rosalie were freshmen and Jasper and Emmett were sophomores, living in the same dorm and on the same floor.

"Bella, let me show you to your bedroom. I think you'll really like it. It faces the back of the house and gets lots of gentle sunlight thanks to the shade from a nice big tree right by the window," Alice tells me. She grabs hold of my hand and clasps it with her little hand, dragging me toward the wide mahogany staircase.

"By the way, Rosalie, tell your movers or servants or whoever they are that they can finally finish up," Alice says, scolding. "Do they really need to put your clothes away for you? Honestly Rosalie, you need a serious reality check sometimes." Rosalie rolls her eyes, saying "fine!" in an exasperated voice. She mutters "bossy little midget" under her breath before pouting and turning sharply on her pricey heel once again. "I HEARD THAT, DOMINATRIX BARBIE!" Alice hollers as she bounds up the stairs, two at a time, dragging me along with her.

I can hardly believe the way she just spoke to Rosalie. Clearly this little bird was more like the mother hen and no cream puff, by any means. We walk toward the back of the hallway and stop in front of my room.

As if sensing what I was thinking, she says "Rosalie is…Rosalie. You need to take her attitude with a grain of salt. That rich ice queen façade isn't who she really is on the inside. There's a reason why she's like that around people who aren't extremely close to her. When you get to know her better, one day I'll explain what I mean. Come on; let's see how you like your room."

She opens the door and we walk inside. It's perfect beyond anything I'd imagined. Of course the furniture is school-issued and pretty boring, but the room itself is exactly what I'd hoped for. It's as if I'd designed it myself. The walls have beautiful crown moldings and on one side there's an inlaid bookcase that goes from floor to ceiling. And sure enough, there's a big window with a beautiful tree in front of it, its outstretched branches and leaves forming a natural umbrella to filter the sunlight into something softer, casting the room in a hushed glow. I'm going to love sitting at the desk next to that window. This is now my home, and it feels great.

Alice interrupts my thoughts by peppering me with a million questions at once. "Wow, you have a lot of work out clothes, don't you? Do you play sports? Is there really ten pairs of sweats in this trunk?" I see the movers have already gotten all my things into my room.

I let out a nervous laugh. "Alice, those aren't my work out clothes. I wear those around everywhere. I'm not really a 'dressy' type of person," I reply. "I mostly wear jeans or sweats unless I'm going somewhere special." Here comes that red face of mine again.

"Oh hon, these things won't do!" Alice exclaims. "This is college, Bella. Step up your game and get yourself a wardrobe that reflects who you are, that makes a statement, that says 'I'm Bella and _you're not!_'" she explains. It never occurred to me that clothes had the ability to do anything except cover your skin. By the way Alice talks you'd think clothes were the key to every one of life's mysteries. She's talking with an almost spiritual reverence. _Maybe I should light candles or something,_ I think to myself.

"We've got to take you shopping. Look at you Bella, you have a perfect figure. You can't cover that lusciousness with an elastic waistband…" As Alice continues her little fashion sermon, my thoughts drift and I realize there's still a fifth housemate who I had yet to meet.


	3. Goodbye Charlie, Hello Stranger

"_Hey read my lips  
'Cause all they say is kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss  
No it won't ever stop  
My hands are in the air, yes I'm in love  
My heart is beating like a jungle drum…"_

—Emiliana Torrini, _Jungle Drum_

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Three: Goodbye Charlie, Hello Stranger**

Alice is with me in my bedroom, cheerfully helping me sort out my belongings so that I can settle in. I listen to her stream of chatter contentedly. She just has this wonderfully buoyant temperament that evens out my tendency to be cynical and sarcastic. She's like a candy bar for your soul, really. Corny but true.

She goes into detail about how she and Jasper clicked pretty much instantly the first time they met. She walked up to him and said "hi, I'm Alice and one day I'm going to marry you. What's your name?" I had to give Alice some serious props. I don't think there's enough money in the world that could persuade me to say that to a complete stranger. Lucky for her, Jasper replied to her boldness with "I'm Jasper Whitlock and hell, I'm game if you are, sweetheart." I believe it was luck, but I'm sure Alice simply considers it something that was just meant to happen.

She also explains how Emmett and Rosalie became a couple. They also felt an attraction for each other fairly quickly, but it was a struggle for Emmett to keep up with Rosalie's dark moods. He finally convinced her to go hiking with him one weekend towards the end of freshman year. He broke the heels off her Manolos to make it easier for her to walk, which infuriated her like a banshee with PMS, but when they almost got killed by a bear and narrowly escaped thanks to Emmett's sharp survival skills, he finally was able to literally sweep Rosalie off her designer shoe clad feet.

Alice's stories are interrupted by my dad knocking on the door and peeking inside. "Bells? I'm back. I put your groceries away and have the rest of the things you wanted," he says.

"Hi. Come in, Charlie," I say as I usher him into the room. "Thanks for shopping for me, it saves me having to ask someone for a ride tomorrow. Oh, Charlie, this is Alice, one of my housemates. Alice, this is my dad Charlie," I say to introduce them.

"Mr. Swan, it's great to meet you. I'll take care of Bella and make sure she has a great first year, don't worry," Alice says reassuringly while smiling her cute impish smile. She knew saying that would be music to Charlie's ears, and it is. He gave her a genuine smile back and says "well, that is very kind of you Alice. I'll be all the way in Washington and I feel better knowing she's got a friend she can trust." Oh Charlie's a goner now. He's so wrapped around Alice's pinky, it's not even funny. I don't mind one bit. I'm so charmed by her myself, how could I possibly mind? This girl's pull on the world around her made her a veritable happiness dynamo.

We're nearly done putting most of my things away when I notice my dad doing something to my bedroom door with a screwdriver. "Charlie, what are you doing to my door? You're going to lose the security deposit you paid for me to move in here," I tell him, feeling a little perplexed.

"Bells, consider the lost deposit an insurance policy for your dear old dad. I'm putting a dead bolt on the inside of this door and I don't give a monkey's banana how much it ends up costing me," my dad says with a grimace. I sigh but keep quiet. Whatever, Charlie.

After saying our protracted goodbyes, mostly with me constantly telling him I'll be fine, my dad finally leaves for the airport to return the rental truck and fly back home to Forks. I wave to him until the truck is out of sight and turn to go back inside.

I walk into the kitchen to check things out. If I'm going to be cooking a lot, I need to see what kind of "work space" I'll be dealing with. I see Rosalie's decorator's touch has been minimal in this room. It's a basic kitchen with basic appliances, but it's very clean and organized. I'm relieved. The last thing I need is to break Rosalie's Gucci blender.

Alice glides in. "Bella, come outside to the green across the way. There's a bunch of people hanging out. There's a keg too, come with me to enjoy it before campus security confiscates it!" she explains hurriedly. Again, that little hand grabs hold of mine and away we go.

"I'll introduce you to some of the friends who live around our house," Alice says as she sips her contraband beer. We're standing on a large expanse of lawn, known simply as "the green." It looks like a common meeting place for people to hang out. There are upperclassmen standing around talking, others sitting here and there. Someone's got music blaring to add to the festive mood.

I see a group of guys right near us playing impromptu touch football while some other people toss a softball back and forth. I recognize Emmett's muscular form among the group playing football. Alice notices me people watching and says "God, I'm such an airhead! I forgot to introduce you to our other housemate, Edward…"

Her words are fading from my ears as I catch sight of one of the other players. I can't help but stare at him and scrutinize every one of his features. He's tall, with a lean but muscular physique, like a runner or a swimmer. He's wearing baggy basketball shorts with biker shorts underneath. His legs are long and sinewy. His gray t-shirt clings to his chest from sweat, and there's a dark island of wetness spreading from the collar downward.

His hair is crazy. _Why am I staring at his crazy hair? _I try to snap out of my ogling but I ignore my urge to be sensible. The hair is copper brown and disheveled in every which way but yet it looks perfect. He runs his hand through it. Now I understand why it's so messy.

My eyes then travel to from his hair to his face. _His face, oh God, his face! _There's no way I can stop staring now. I see a beautiful, angular jaw. His lips are perfect, lush, plump, and red. I wonder if they taste good.

_Oh, I'm over the edge now baby, and it feels good. _

He has a straight nose, masculine and long. But his eyes, oh his eyes…they're the best part. They smolder under thick eyebrows that frame those exquisite eyes perfectly. He just keeps looking more and more mouth-watering as the game he's playing brings him closer and closer toward me.

"Bella, yoo-hoo! Earth to Bella!!" I hear Alice calling my attention and feel her elbowing my side, but I can't lift my gaze off this man even if I wanted to. And I don't want to.

"Bella, the guy you're staring at is Edward. He's our other housemate," she says. My mind starts to reel. I swallow hard as my breath catches. Before I know it, the game is breaking up. The guy I've been staring at without blinking is now walking right towards me and my heart races. He finally catches my gaze and looks back at me, first with interest as he studies my face for a few seconds, but then with sudden alarm. Before my mush-addled brain gets the chance to register what's about to happen, it's too late.

I get nailed squarely in the side of the head with a softball thrown with full force.

It ricochets off my temple, right next to my eye. The impact of it rattles my skull. Everything goes blindingly white for a second, then a million stars flash behind my closed eyelids. My hands cover my face as I bend over, while I groan out a low "owwwwww, that's gonna leave a mark," through clenched teeth. The pain is nothing compared to how stupid I feel, and that fucking softball hurt like hell.

"Oh my God, Bella!" Alice shrieks. "Bella, sweetie, are you OK? Let me see, are you bleeding?" She's trying to pry my hand off my eye. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just gonna sting for a couple of minutes," I reassure her. I hear voices around me but I'm blocking them out. I don't want people even looking in my direction, let alone fussing over me.

_I just want to be mortified in peace, is that too much to ask?_

I agonize over the last five minutes that just passed. _Why did I have to stare at that guy like a fat kid eyeing a jelly donut? I should've just recognized the fact that he was totally out of my league and gone on about my business. No, I had to stand there, slack jawed and brain damaged, so clueless that I fail to notice a round projectile object flying right toward my head._

Again I feel Alice pulling at my hand, with a little more force this time. "Alice, leave me be, please!" I snap, losing my patience. As I say the words "I'm going to be…" I finally drop my hand down and open my eyes. Edward's face is peering down at me, his eyebrow cocked and his expression bemused. The hand I moved away from my face is in his warm palm.

"…fine," I squeaked. I feel that all too familiar rush of heat to my face once again.

"That must have hurt," he says while inspecting the spot on my face that is now throbbing. His voice is deep but almost melodic. _God, even his voice his gorgeous,_ I can't help thinking to myself. "Are you OK? You're not dizzy, are you? If you are, you could have a concussion," he asks.

_No, I don't have a concussion. I'm just a socially retarded library nerd. I'm afraid that condition is terminal, unfortunately._

"No, no," I say as I smile weakly and look down. "Thanks for asking if I'm OK. I just need to put some ice on it. I'll be fine."

Alice reappears with an ice pack. She holds it out to me but I just don't want to move my hand to take it from her. I like it just where it is at the moment, resting lightly in Edward's palm. He turns and takes the ice pack from Alice with his other, unoccupied hand. He gently holds the ice pack up to where there must be hideous tumor of a lump by now. He's ever so careful not to cause me more pain and is very gentle as the cold ice begins to numb the pain.

I muster the nerve to look up from the ground. Now that I'm standing so close to him, I can see more of the details of his facial features.

_If I couldn't tear my eyes off him before, well now I'm totally screwed. _

Those smoldering eyes are looking back at me under thick lashes. I'm simply, utterly captivated by the rich, deep green color of his eyes. They remind me of the lush moss around Forks. His thick eyebrows and heavy brow give him an intense brooding demeanor. His nose looked straight from far away but now I see that it is ever so slightly crooked, with a small bump at the bridge. His lips are red and pursed as he concentrates. His chin is square with a subtle indentation in the center. He has a lightly scruffy five o'clock shadow and cool sideburns that both give him a slight bad boy quality. It all suits him perfectly.

"Does that feel good?" he asks.

_Dude, you have no idea._

Again I can feel myself blushing, my stupid cheeks giving away my thoughts.

"Um, yeah, the ice is helping a lot," I answer.

"Listen, why don't I walk you back to the house so you can lie down? You should probably take some ibuprofen too," he says. I nod my head. He lifts the ice pack away from my face as we turn and walk toward the road and back home.

My hand is still in his, both of us walking with our arms at our sides. His palm is gently wrapped around mine, and I can feel his long fingers along the back of my hand. The only thing pounding louder than my temple is my racing heart.

_Is the idea of holding someone's hand really getting me worked up like a 12 year at the junior high school prom? I need a life! I'm just a sad, sorry person, I swear._

"Would you like your hand back now?" I ask sheepishly.

"Only if you want yours back. I'm happy to hold it, just in case you do end up getting dizzy while we're walking," he says with a smile. I notice that his lips curl up higher on one side than on the other.

_Stop staring at his mouth, you idiot!_

The walk is over entirely too quickly and I head up the stairs to my room. I change into an old t-shirt and sweats and recline myself gently on my bed. I try to clear my mind and relax when there's a knock on my door. "Come in," I say. The door opens softly and Edward slips inside.

_What was that about trying to clear my mind?_

He notices the dead bolt on my door and eyes it curiously.

"Don't ask," I say while raising my hand before he speaks up. "My dad thinks every guy at Dartmouth wants to come into my room." Edward chuckles softly in response.

"Hey, I brought you some Tylenol," he says as you leans over to my nightstand and puts down some pills and a bottle of water.

"Thanks. You've been really nice," I say with a shy smile.

He sits on the edge of my bed, a comfortable distance away. "You know, I've held your hand and now brought you some medicine but I never even introduced myself," he jokes. "My name is Edward Cullen and I'm happy to meet you," he says, extending his hand toward me.

He shakes my hand gently as I reply "I'm Bella Swan, and I'm happy to meet you too." I smile more brightly now.

"So I guess you've met all the other housemates. I hope you like living here. We're a good group of friends," he says warmly. "Rosalie's heart thaws every year or so and even she's nice to be around. It freezes back up again fairly quickly though, so it's an extremely small window of opportunity," he jokes. I laughed hard at that.

We chat about the basics for a while as the sun starts to slowly set outside my window. The soft light against Edward's profile is a sight I can barely look at without it taking my breath away. I wish I had the nerve to get out my camera. I love photography and through it I've nurtured a keen eye for subjects that are visually stunning. I don't think I've ever seen anything I wanted to capture on film more than what I was looking at right at this moment. His soulful eyes and expressive brows mesmerize me as he tells me about himself—his hometown of Chicago; his being a junior, majoring in Biology in preparation for med school; his love of music (piano in particular); and how he's in a band with some friends.

My trance is broken by a question he asks me. I'm not sure I heard him right so I ask him to say it again.

"So are you going to show me some of your sexy moves?" he asks, his eyes glinting mischievously.

I sit there staring stupidly like a complete goober.

_He's hitting on me and I have no idea how to act. Do I try to act seductive? How exactly is that done, anyway?_

Sensing my utter bewilderment, he points to my shirt. I look down and realize why he said what he did. I was wearing my old Forks High Chess Club t-shirt that reads "Chess Players Know All the Sexy Moves" in giant block letters. I never wear the thing out in public and I wasn't expecting the most handsome man I'd ever seen to pop over for a visit.

_Here it comes…wait for it. And blushing crimson once again!_

"God, I'm such a dork. I forgot I was wearing this dumb shirt," I say, completely mortified. "Just ignore me and my stupid red face," I mutter.

_Smoooooth. Few things are more attractive to a guy than an insecure chowder-head._

"Bella, you're really pretty when you blush," he says in a soft, delicate tone, almost like a whisper. I have no words to respond to that, so I don't bother. Before I know it, I sit up and lean toward him. I want to touch his face so badly, I could die.

"Let me, um, take a look at your temple," he offers, providing us both a reason to inch closer toward each other. I scoot myself down the bed so that our faces are so close, I can smell him. I try not to be too obvious as I give in to the strongest temptation I've ever felt to breathe someone in completely. He smells like a mixture of sweet cinnamon and a warm, spicy musk. I'd never smelled anything like it but it's intoxicating. I'd never really been drunk before and I never tried drugs. But this must be what feels like.

As I lean forward, my long brown hair suddenly falls in front of my face with a soft bounce, covering my injured temple. I'm too paralyzed to move. I've never been this close to someone I've wanted to kiss and grope and rub up against and lick and massage and whisper secrets to and explore with my fingers and my lips and my tongue.

With his long, perfect fingers, he gently lifts my hair and puts it back behind my ear. His hand brushes my cheek as he does this, and my skin under his immediately ignites with the shock of a million tiny sparks. I lift my eyes up to his and his magnetic gaze is pulling me in like some kind of crazy vortex. I lick my lips as I look at his, the deep red of his mouth calling to me like hypnotic siren. I can feel his breath now. _It smells like mint,_ I think to myself as my eyes close and my lips can't bear to wait any longer.

In a split second, he suddenly stands up and clears his throat. My eyes snap open. His face gives a neutral expression, his intense stare gone completely as he looks at the blank wall behind me. I can literally feel my heart sink into my socks. Thoughts race in a frenzy through my head.

_Honestly, what the fuck were you expecting Bella? This guy is light years out of your league. You guys don't even exist in the same dimension in looks or social standing. Enjoy your humiliation, 'cause you asked for it._

"Well, looks like your temple will be fine," he says curtly. "I need to finish unpacking my stuff," he says and walks out of my room quickly. He doesn't bother to shut the door behind him. I quickly get up and close it. _No one needs to see me cry, _I think as my face tightens and my eyes begin to sting.

I let myself wallow in self pity long enough to come to my senses. _OK, hang on. If I understand this right, he was giving me every signal that he was about to kiss me. I'm no genius when it comes to romance, but even I'm not _that_ dumb. Who does he think he is playing some stupid cat and mouse mind-fuck with me?_

"Arrogant, cockblocking asshole!" I mutter as I roll over in my bed, punching the pillow next to me.


	4. Dr Jackass & Mr Hyde

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Four: Dr. Jackass & Mr. Hyde **

"_You're hot then you're cold  
You're yes then you're no  
You're in and you're out  
You're up and you're down_

_Someone call the doctor  
Got a case of a love bipolar  
Stuck on a rollercoaster  
Can't get off this ride"_

—Katy Perry, "Hot N Cold"

The next few days pass by in a busy blur. I buy my textbooks and all the supplies I need. Getting into a routine with my housemates is relatively easy. I volunteer to do most of the cooking in lieu of any of the other household chores and everyone is happy with that since no one else seems to know their way around a kitchen. The first day of class is a Friday, so the weekend gives me a chance to settle in and meet people before studying really starts up in earnest.

Much to my relief, I don't see Edward that Friday or that weekend. Alice mentions that his band was playing some dive bar in Boston and he wouldn't be back until late Sunday night. After the softball fiasco, I really don't want to have to face him. I was still pretty angry at the way he acted and to be honest my pride was hurt. I'd rather not be around him until I've cooled off a bit.

It's Saturday night and Alice wears me down and convinces me to go party hopping around campus with her and the other housemates. She's in my room, rifling through my closet for an outfit she deems appropriate for the occasion. This girl's preoccupation with clothes is insane, but I know she's just trying to help.

"How about this one?" she asks, showing me a cute little fluttery top my mom got me last year. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that one. It does look good on me. Sure, I'll wear that," I reply. I turn to look for a decent pair of shoes to wear when Rosalie walks in and sits on my bed, looking bored. We exchange brief hellos.

"Hey Alice, can I ask you something?" I ask hesitantly. "Of course, ask me anything you like about Edward," she says, tilting her head at me and smiling. "Alice, I don't even want to know how you guessed this was about him," I say. "I'm just curious as to what kind of person he is. We talked just for a bit the other day after that stupid softball beaned me in the head, but that was about it," I say.

"Edward is a pretty complicated person. He's a very loyal friend and genuinely cares for the people around him," she explains. "But he can also be terribly stubborn if he's convinced he's right about something. I think he can get a little wrapped up brood over things more than is necessary. He can become so intently focused that he loses sight of the bigger picture," she adds. "Does that give you a better idea of what he's like?" she asks. I nod my head thoughtfully.

"I heard he's hung like a horse. Isn't that really all you need to know?" Rosalie interjects, inspecting her manicure. Alice shoots her death stare. "What, have you not seen the size of that boy's feet? I bet he's got a monster in his pants. I'm just saying! Stop looking at me like that Alice," she says with a huff and a roll of her eyes. I can only react with laughter and soon Alice can't keep a straight face either. "Excuse me," I say in a ridiculously sweet voice, "is that an anaconda in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" I joke, and now even Rosalie is laughing as Alice squeals at me to stop before she pees in her pants. It feels good to have girl friends I can giggle with about boys and dirty stuff.

We spend the rest of the night going from party to party all around campus. We stop at a house just down the street from us. A small group is mingling in the living room and Alice introduces me to the hosts, Mike Newley and Tyler Crowley, two friendly guys who chat with me and put me completely at ease with their funny stories and infectious laughter. I have my camera with me and take candid shots of people.

By the time we get back to the house, it's very late and the small amount of beer I drank throughout the night has made me quite sleepy. I leave the two happy couples snuggling on the couches downstairs and head to bed.

I dream vividly about Edward. My mind replays that night he came to my room with the Tylenol and bottled water. Only instead of bolting out of the room like he did, in my dream his lips do touch mine like I'd so badly wanted them to. The kiss starts ever so softly, hesitantly, as our lips gently join together. He takes a deep breath as he leans his face into mine, his kiss becoming more intense, more hungered. I part my lips, wishing desperately to feel his tongue. I don't have to wait long. His tongue, wet and smooth, slips through my lips and touches mine, its warmth and velvety texture igniting me even further.

He gently cups my face with his hand and I do the same. He pulls my palm to his lips and plants gentle kisses inside it. I lean back on the bed and he stretches forward over me, his face hovering over mine, his body pressing on top of me. He leans in and inhales the scent of my hair, murmuring "Bella…" in my ear before kissing my ear lobe and ever so lightly nibbling on it. His hand strokes my face, my neck, and my collarbone in slow, languid circles. His mouth returns to mine, kissing me more fiercely now, his tongue darting into mine. My hands are all over him—that thick, crazy hair, his wonderfully broad shoulders, and his strong back.

The gentle, sultry touches of his hand and lips are so sensuous that my mind is spinning while my body is reacting of its on volition. I feel like my skin is about to catch fire. My nipples stiffen and I can feel the hot moisture building between my legs. My brain should be telling me to be embarrassed by what's happening but I just don't care. I have never been so keenly aware of someone's effect on me before, and I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

His hand moves down to between my breasts as I murmur "mmm, Edward," and my breath slowly exhales. My chest rises as his hand is now on my breast, cupping it softly. My nipple under his palm is so completely stiff it almost hurts, but the sensation is unbelievably exquisite. His thumb flicks my nipple back and forth through my shirt.

His hand then travels down my stomach slowly until it reaches the waistband of my sweats. His fingers gently play along the edge of my sweats back and forth, teasing me into a state of erotic madness. "God, Edward, please stop torturing me," I beg. He moans in response as his hand slips into my pants and over my panties. The material is thin and he shifts it over to reach the warm flesh under it. I'm soaking wet now, my desire like an out of control inferno. He delicately strokes the folds of my labia, parting them gently. With the lightest touch, his finger dances in small circles around my clitoris. My breathing gets heavier and a small moan escapes my lips. His finger moves more urgently now, up and down against my fully engorged bud. I start to pant as I feel sparks shooting through my hips and thighs. In a low purr he whispers "come for me, Bella," and I am undone. Shuttering spasms erupt in waves between my legs as I moan "Edward, Edward!"

My eyes open and I am once again alone in my bed. The all too familiar throbbing of my pelvic muscles remind me of how realistic my dream was and I let out a long, exasperated sigh. _Well that's close as I'm ever gonna get to Edward making me come,"_ I think dejectedly. "In my dreams, literally," I mumble, as I turn to doze off again.

I get home from class on Monday morning and the house is empty. I don't mind, in fact I enjoy the chance to be alone for a while after the buzz of all the activity of the last few days. I climb up the stairs to my room and plug my iPod into the speakers on my dresser. I select the playlist that has all my favorite dance music on it. The music plays as I tidy up. I make the bed and organize the things on my desk. I remember the posters I have in my closet and decide I should hang them. I finish hanging the last poster and I tap my foot as Beyoncé sings from my speakers:

_Cuz if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it  
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it  
Don't be mad once you see that he want it  
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it…_

I can't resist the thumping beat and start doing my best little bootylicious bounce, grinding my hips and shaking my butt. Being a complete klutz and very uncoordinated, I never dance in public. Ever. I've watched myself dance in the mirror before, and trust me; I look like a palsied chicken having a seizure. Even so, I actually like to dance. It's the people around me gaping in paralyzed horror that I find unpleasant.

By now I'm really getting into it, bending my elbows back and forth really fast as I stick my boobs out with abandon. "If you liked it, then you shoulda put a ring on it, OH OH OH!" I sing along, pointing to my ring finger while working my junk just like Beyoncé does in her video. _I am…Bella Fierce!"_ I think to myself. I'm getting a little sweaty now. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something that wasn't there the last time I looked in that direction a few minutes ago. I jerk my head toward it sharply.

It's Edward leaning against the door frame watching me with that crooked smile on his face. _Oh God, I left my door wide open!_ I immediately freeze with my ass in mid-shimmy, my face turning redder than a tomato.

"Don't stop, you looked like you were having fun," he says, still smiling with his arms folded loosely in front of him, the sleeves of his black t-shirt hugging his biceps. Despite how irritated I am at him, I can't help but think that he looks like a modern day James Dean, standing there leaning on his side.

"You came to my room just to make fun of me?" I ask sharply. I regret the words the second they leave my mouth. I'm mad but I'm also not a bitch.

"No, Bella. I'm sorry for teasing you. I wanted to talk actually, because I think I owe you an even bigger apology for the way I behaved the last time we saw each other," he says sincerely. "I was hoping that from now on we could be friends, if that's OK."

"Edward," I say before drawing a deep breath, "I appreciate your apology and I accept it. Sure we can be friends," I say. "Can we just drop it?" I ask. "Consider it dropped," he replies. "Speaking of dropping things, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you 'drop it like it's haawwwt,'" he says playfully. "Shut up, smartass," I respond as I lightly kick his leg with my bare foot. "Let's go downstairs and I'll make lunch," I say as I walk passed him and through the door.

We chat in the kitchen while I rummage around the fridge. Edward is sitting at the table drinking a Coke. "So, what are you in the mood for?" I ask. "I was thinking of making chicken quesadillas," I suggest. "Sure, that sounds good," he says. "If you don't mind I'll have mine without the chicken. I'm a vegetarian, actually," he tells me. "Sure thing," I reply.

"If you're a vegetarian, how do you deal with studying Biology? I mean, don't you have to cut up animals? And what about drug trials, scientists test on animals all the time," I ask, curious to hear his response.

"Well, it seems like a conflict, doesn't it? I mean, how can I dissect an animal but think it's wrong to eat one?" he agrees. "But the answer is quite simple. If I eat an animal when there's plenty of other alternatives I could choose from, that's really rather selfish. But using an animal for dissection helps me learn what I need to know to become a doctor and help others. So, it serves a greater good. Eating a cheeseburger doesn't do that, it just satisfies my selfish desire to eat another living thing," he explains. I nod my head in agreement.

_Gorgeous, intelligent, funny, ethical—is this guy even real? Cool your jets girl, he just wants to be friends, remember?_

"That's very ethical of you," I say. His expression changes to something more serious when I say that. His brow furrows, and once again I'm looking at that serious, ponderous gaze of his. "If you knew me well, you wouldn't say that. I'm not a very nice person," he says grimly. I'm puzzled by this confession; it seems to come out of left field. I don't want to press it though, and let silence linger instead.

We talk more over our meal and Edward asks me about my interests. I tell him all about Phoenix, Forks, Charlie, photography and books. He has a keen knack for conversation and I feel completely relaxed, as if we've been friends for years. Our awkward encounter from a few days ago is now a thing of the past. I'm disappointed when our chatting is interrupted by the arrival of various housemates coming and going throughout the house.

The next morning I wake with a start and look at my clock. _Shit! I overslept._ I rush to get ready, not wanting to be late for class. I fly down the stairs (narrowly avoiding tripping,) grab a protein bar from the kitchen and go out the door.

Edward is standing on the sidewalk, chatting with a neighbor while sipping from a Starbucks cup. "Where's the fire, Bella?" he asks with a smile as I scurry passed him. "Late, late, late!" I chant as I run toward the street.

I'm looking down at my bag while running, trying to remember if I grabbed my cell phone. I don't notice the glassy thin sheet of black ice that has formed during the cold night. I also don't notice Tyler Crowley's van skidding as it tries to clip the corner of our street too sharply. It's spinning out of control and heading right toward me. I look up and my heart leaps into my mouth. I try to stop myself in mid step but it's too late. I instinctively put my arms up around my face and shut my eyes.

Then I feel something roughly grab my shoulder but not quite catch hold of it. Instead, it's the side of my shirt being yanked very, very hard. The material digs into the skin on my neck as the force of being pulled so roughly jerks my whole body back. For a split second, I am literally airborne. I land face down with a soft thud. _Why is the ground so soft?_ I wonder. _I must be in shock._ I conclude.

I open my eyes and Edward is lying underneath me, his hand still twisted around my shirt, which is now torn completely open. I'm on top of him, my hands pressed flat against his chest, my legs between his. We're both panting and slightly dazed. Edward isn't looking at my face. I trace his line of sight with my eyes and realize he's looking at where my shirt used to be before it was ripped open. It's my boobs, heaving up and down and straining against my bra. _Thank God I put a pretty one on today._ I think impulsively.

His eyes quickly shift to my face. "Bella, are you alright?" I need a second to find my voice as the fear that just jolted through me begins to ebb. "I think so, yeah," I murmur. He lets go of my shirt and puts his hands on my waist to gently turn me onto my side and next to him. Instantly, he's sitting up and pulling his t-shirt off in one quick motion. "Bella, here, I'm sorry I ripped your shirt. Take mine so you can go back inside and change," he says. All I can do is stare at his shirtless body. He's a vision, with perfectly sculpted pecs and abs. "Bella? Did you hear me? You should cover up, there are people standing around us," he informs me in a sharp tone, his face growing dark. Finally I snap out of my haze when I realize what he's telling me. I pull his shirt on over mine and grab his hand as he helps me to stand up.

Alice is at my side in a blink of an eye. "Bella, you scared me half to death. First I see you run out the door, and then I hear brakes squealing and a car horn. Please don't EVER scare me shitless like that again!!" she admonishes. "Are you guys alright? Christ, Edward do you have perfect timing. She could've been killed if you weren't out here," she says, sheer relief in her voice.

I realize with embarrassment that I didn't even ask Edward if he was OK, let alone thank him. "Edward, are you hurt?" I ask. "No, I'm fine," he replies curtly. I notice a faint purple blotch forming on his chest. "I think you are," I say, pointing to what looks like a quickly developing bruise. "It's just a bruise; I guess your chin hit me when we fell," he answers.

"I'm so sorry. Thank you so much for thinking and acting so fast. I definitely owe you one. Thank you, really," I say sincerely. "You don't owe me anything and I don't want anything from you," he says in a clipped, almost angry tone. He turns and walks inside, leaving me utter confused, staring stupidly with my mouth open.

The rest of my morning passes with my thoughts dull and my mind restless. I'm walking back home after my classes are finished for the day and see Edward walking toward his silver Volvo outside the house. He sees me but quickly looks away. As he approaches his driver's side door, I pull his arm so that he has to turn and face me.

"Edward, you seem angry at me. Is it something I said or did?" I ask. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it on purpose. I thought we were going to be friends," I say earnestly. "Bella, please, just leave me alone," he says, his voice firm. "You're better off not being my friend, OK? I told you, if you knew me, you wouldn't have a very high opinion of me," he states sternly. "And besides that, I have better things to do than hang out with a freshman. What do I look like, your orientation counselor?" His words sting like a slap.

With that, he gets in his car and drives off, leaving me standing there hurt and angry. All I can think about is that bruise on the left side of his chest, right above his heart. I feel like I may as well have one there too.

I do love reviews because I'm shallow and having my ego stroked is a hobby of mine. :o)


	5. How Bella Got Her Groove Back

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Five: How Bella Got Her Groove Back**

"_You know you got me waiting in vain  
How come it's so easy to you?  
You don't strike me as the type to be callous  
But your words seem so obtuse  
But then again I know you feel guilty  
And you tell me you want me again  
But I don't need any of your pity  
I got plenty of my own friends"_

—The White Stripes, "My Doorbell"

In the first few days after my near death experience thanks to Tyler's van, I mope about my fight with Edward. But as classes begin to churn out a busy workload for me, I begin to think less and less about him. I had papers to write and quizzes to take. I begin to spend more time in the library so I can get some peace and quiet. I love my housemates but Emmett and his football buddies playing Madden on the giant flat screen, hollering and carrying on, is a bit of a distraction.

Edward disappears from my periphery for a good 4 or 5 days, as we seem to always miss each other at the house. When I do finally see him again, we exchange only a quick hello or a nod to acknowledge each other and no more. Whenever the housemates are in the living room watching TV, I deliberately avoid joining them if Edward is among them. I use my long list of homework as an excuse to retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom, the peaceful window and sturdy tree my companions.

I find myself feeling more angry than hurt over the whole situation. _It doesn't make sense for him to have treated me that way. It was almost as if he was angry at me for accidentally getting run over,_ I think angrily. His harsh words ring in my ears and I feel indignant. _I know I am a good person, or at least I try to be. There's no reason for him to be angry, especially since I tried to resolve it with him. Maybe he's right; maybe he is just a jerk._

My therapeutic cooking helps me put things in perspective. Every night I go to the kitchen to plan and cook dinner. Even though I decide I'm beginning to hate Edward's guts, I think it's only fair to make sure he gets to eat just like the rest of us. So if I make a chicken casserole, I'll make another, one-portioned sized one with tofu instead. If I make hamburgers, I'll make a garden burger too. Each night I place the vegetarian meal in a container with a post-it that says "Edward" and every morning when I go to drink my morning coffee, it's gone. It's always replaced with a note on my milk carton that simply says "thanks."

I commemorate each passing week that Edward and I don't speak by giving him a nasty nickname that I use silently whenever I think of him or see him in passing. By the sixth week, I recite the long list in my head.

_Week 1: Cock Monkey_

_Week 2: Assward_

_Week 3: Camel Fucker (it was my birthday that week and he didn't even acknowledge it)_

_Week 4: Wank Stain_

_Week 5: Anal Wart_

_Week 6: Poopypants (OK, I ran out of good ones)_

After spending an entire afternoon in my room writing a gruelingly difficult paper, I decide to go downstairs to join Alice and Rosalie on the couch to watch Grey's Anatomy. _A little McSteamy is just what I need,_ I think to myself. The three of us are laughing and chatting when Edward walks into the room.

_Oh hello Poopypants, how are you today?_ I think to myself with a slight snicker.

"Hey guys, do you mind if I join you?" he asks. Rosalie's eyes shoot up at him. "Since when do straight men watch Grey's Anatomy?" she replies snidely. Alice elbows her in the side and gives her the hairy eyeball.

"Free country," I tell him coldly, not even looking in his direction. My eyes go wide as Alice looks at Rosalie while motioning her head toward the door as if to silently say "let's get out of here and leave them alone." I start to shake my head "no" subtly, looking pleadingly at Alice. Rosalie mumbles "I can't believe I'm missing Patrick Dempsey without a shirt on for these two ninnies," as she and Alice shuffle out of the room.

I focus my eyes on the TV, trying to pretend that I'm concentrating on the screen.

"Bella, I know you're angry at me and you have every right to be," he begins. I put my hand up to cut him off. "Edward, honestly, I don't even want to hear it. You said some hurtful things to me, and then for six weeks you don't speak to me except for a curt nod and an ice cold 'hello.' You made me feel like I was to blame for Tyler nearly killing me," I say, my anger rising.

"I know Bella, and I'm truly sorry for the way I've been behaving and especially for the harsh words I said to you that day. It's inexcusable, really," he says, his face looking earnestly apologetic. "Please, will you accept my apology?" he asks.

"Edward, why are you doing this?" I ask. "I mean, I appreciate the apology but I just don't understand what's motivating you to say it. We could've just kept up the civility and nothing more," I say.

"I'm apologizing first because I really do regret the way I treated you, but also because I give up," he says.

"You give up? What the hell does that mean?" I ask angrily.

"I give up trying to avoid you being around you. I give up trying to avoid becoming your friend. In fact, I very much want to be your friend, if you'll let me be," he says.

I almost can't believe the words I'm hearing. I can feel my pulse accelerating as I begin to feel more and more anger rise in me. "OK, this is insane. _You_ are insane. Dude, you do more flip flops than a Waffle House pancake. Didn't we already have an 'I'm sorry, let's be friends' conversation? I honestly don't have the energy or the patience to keep up with someone whose personality is as fucked up yours. I mean, look at Rosalie. Sure, she's an insufferable harpy but at least she's consistent! Are you a gentleman or a douche bag, Edward? Please pick one!"

He sits silently, taking in everything I've said with no objection or argument. His eyes are cast down and his face is remorseful.

"Bella, as I've told you, you would be better off not wanting to be around me. But I can't resist anymore. I'm really sorry for being hurtful. I do want to be your friend," he repeats. "You just shouldn't want to be mine."

"Don't you think I have a mind of my own enough to decide who I want to be friends with and who I don't? What kind of crap is that?" I snap back. "I'm sorry too, Edward," I say facetiously. "Because you're going to have to try a lot harder than this." I get off the couch and walk up the stairs in a huff, stomping my feet hard on each stoop as I go.

By the next night, my paper is done and I'm happy that it's finally Friday. I really need to unwind after all the work I'd been doing. The stress from my angry exchange with Edward didn't help either. As hard as I try to get it out of my mind, somehow the heated words I'd said keep replaying in my head.

The housemates and I all head over to Mike and Tyler's for a party. I try my best to ignore the fact that Edward is with us. Once there, the guys descend on Tyler's PlayStation 3, arguing over who gets to pick which game to play. Alice hands me a plastic cup full of punch. I take a sip and am surprised. "Alice, I'm not a big drinker but I don't think this has any alcohol in it," I say. "Oh, yes it does! That's the beauty of it. I don't know how they do it, but somehow Mike and Tyler have figured out a way to make a really strong drink that tastes like regular old Kool-Aid. They call it 'the Horny Virgin' because that's the effect it's supposed to have on girls," she explains with a chuckle.

"Hey there Bella! Thanks for coming by," says Mike, approaching us. He gives me a warm hug. "How're classes going? You're not too stressed, I hope?" he asks. "No, not too stressed, but it's not exactly a cake walk!" I reply. "Ah well, that's what weekends are for. I see you already got a drink—excellent choice, the Horny Virgin. I'm very proud of that creation. Hey, why don't I walk you around and introduce you to some peeps? You probably don't have classes with most of these people so you may not know them," he says.

Mike takes me around and I chat and mingle, all the while sipping my Horny Virgin. Then I thoroughly enjoy another one, faster this time. I'm starting to feel extremely jovial as the night progresses. I catch glimpses of Edward here and there. Mostly he's playing video games but I notice more and more girls surrounding him as he sits on the floor looking like a fucking sultan with a harem full of hoochies.

_Figures. Who can resist the charms of Assward?_ I think sarcastically.

Despite my anger, the alcohol is softening my mood. I can't help but gaze at his face as his expression shifts from thoughtful to laughing to serious again. He's running his hand through his hair like he always does, and it's a habit that I must admit I find completely adorable. He catches my eye but I turn my head quickly.

Mike is being very sweet, helping me get to know so many new people without making it feel awkward for me. He leads me around some more, this time with his hand on the small of my back. I don't mind. When he comes back from the bathroom, he stands by my side and casually puts his arm around my shoulders. His increased physical contact is a welcome distraction from having to fight the urge to look at Edward. But now I notice that it's Edward staring at me. Actually, he's staring at Mike, but it's more like a death glare.

_If I didn't know better, I'd think he was jealous. The alcohol must be playing games with me. Fine, I'll play along. Ha, ha, you're jealous! Take that, Jellyward!_ I think to myself with smug satisfaction.

I'm almost through my third Horny Virgin and I'm feeling bold. I nonchalantly wrap my arm around Mike's waist and give Edward a huge, bright smile. His expression is stone cold and his eyes feel like they're boring into me. I turn away and focus on the funny story Mike is telling the group of people standing around us.

After I while I realize that all the late nights I'd been keeping combined with all the Horny Virgins I've enjoyed have made me feel incredibly tired. With perfect timing as always, Alice pops over to me, beckoning me to lean down so she can whisper in my ear. "Hey, do you need an excuse to cut out of here without Mike trying to make you stick around?" she asks. "Jasper and I want to go home, he can't resist me when I've got a buzz going and act all frisky," she says with a giggle. I agree that I'd like to turn in and we head back to the house after saying our goodbyes.

I crawl into bed and fall asleep literally as my head hits the pillow. Some time later, I wake up, too uncomfortable to stay asleep. My room is entirely too hot. The old radiator in the corner can't really regulate itself. It seems to either keep the room ice cold or like an equatorial rain forest. I get up and crack the window open a few inches to let some air in. I get back into bed, trying to fall asleep but I toss and turn. My mind drifts everywhere—to thoughts about my schoolwork, to the laundry piling up in my closet, and then inevitably to Edward. I try to lie perfectly still and just concentrate on my breathing, hoping this will relax me enough to help me fall back asleep.

Suddenly, I'm startled by a noise outside my window. I calm myself by realizing that it's just a tree branch. But then I hear the window slide upward and someone climb in. My heart pounds as I leap out of bed in perhaps the most graceful movement I've ever executed in my long clumsy existence. Instantly the things I learned in the self-defense courses Charlie insisted I take pop into my head. I pull my arm all the way back with my palm open and my fingers curled. I propel my arm forward as hard as I can, putting all my weight into it, and make contact with the face of the intruder—his nose, I think.

His head reels back and his hand rushes to his face as he groans a loud "owww!" I feel triumphant. _I am a bitch on wheels!_ I think smugly.

"Shit, Bella, you punch really hard for a girl!" he exclaims.

_Oh God._

"Edward?" I peep, feeling very tiny all of a sudden.


	6. Damsels, Dazzlers & Dracula

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Six: Damsels, Dazzlers and Dracula **

"_Fascinating new thing  
you delight me  
and I know you're speaking of me  
fascinating new thing  
get beside me, I want you to love me_

_I'm suprised that you've never been told before  
that you're lovely and you're perfect  
and that somebody wants you"_

—Semisonic, "Fascinating New Thing"

"Oh my God, Edward! I thought you were some deranged serial killer," I gasp. "Are you OK?" I ask. "I'm alright but I think my nose is bleeding," he answers. Without even taking the time to turn the light on, I quickly reach for the small towel draped on the back of my chair and quickly hand it to him. "Here, put this over your nose and sit down," I say as I gently guide him to take a seat on my bed.

"Why the heck were you climbing through my window? Are you drunk?" I ask, half jokingly. "The front door was locked and your window was the only one open. I didn't have my key because Alice borrowed mine the other day and forgot to give it back to me," he answers.

_Alice! Should've known she'd be behind this. "Forgot" to give it back, my ass._

"I was going to just ring the doorbell but Rosalie is a very light sleeper, and Maleficent does not appreciate having her beauty sleep disturbed," he explains. I chuckle at his Sleeping Beauty reference. "I would've tapped on your window but you looked asleep, so I tried to just slip passed you quietly," he says.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes. "OK, I think the bleeding stopped," he says. I get up and turn on the small lamp on my bedside table. "I should go to the bathroom and wash my face," he says, standing up. He lifts the towel away. His nose is covered in caked blood and is slightly swollen. The towel in his hand has large blotches of bright red on it. I look at his face, then the towel, then back at his face again. I'm horrified at how much blood there is. I've always been a very squeamish person; the sight of blood just causes my insides to churn and my head to go dizzy.

"That's…a lot…of blood," I manage to mumble just before I go limp like a rag doll and everything goes black.

I'm dreaming now but only in sound. I hear that husky yet melodic voice saying my name over and over, beckoning me like some kind of hypnotic snake charmer.

_Bella, wake up. Bella? Bella?_

It sounds so lovely. I can't help but smile. _Umm, Edward, your voice is so sweet, like music,_ I answer back in my mind. I feel something cold on my forehead and it forces me to open my eyes slowly. I'm lying on my bed and Edward's handsome face is looking down at me with that devilish crooked smile. _God, why does he have to be so gorgeous?_ I think to myself.

"Welcome back. You had me confused for a second there. Your eyes were closed but you were talking," he says. I feel that familiar rush of heat to my face as I begin to blush furiously. "I talk in my sleep a lot," I admit sheepishly. "I passed out, didn't I? Sorry, I can't handle the sight of blood," I explain. "I noticed that, he replies. When I went to get you a cold wash cloth I made sure to wash my face really quick so you wouldn't wake up and pass out again," he says with a smile. "Are you OK now?" he asks. "I think so," I answer. "But I could use a drink of water and maybe a piece of toast to settle my stomach," I say. "OK, let's go downstairs," he says, extending a hand to me to help me sit up.

I stand and try to take a few steps but my knees start to buckle underneath me. With the grace of a cat, Edward's arms press against my back and the back of my thighs as he effortlessly lifts me up and cradles me against his chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and think to myself that I doubt I've ever felt so safe in all my life. I can smell sweet cinnamon and warm musk as my nose nuzzles into the nape of his beautiful neck. Without thinking, I take a deep breath and let it out with a long soft sigh.

"Bella," he whispers lightly into my hair. I lift my head and press my cheek against his. His stubble is scratchy but it tantalizes me nonetheless. I draw my head back and look at his exquisite face. I study his low furrowed brow, his wickedly mesmerizing eyes, even his slightly swollen nose as if I'm appreciating a priceless work of art. To me, that's exactly what his face is. My eyes gaze down to those luscious pursed lips, red and inviting. _God, why does he make me nuts like this? After all the stupid shit he pulled, I shouldn't give a flying fart about his melodic voice and his cinnamon musk and his gorgeous eyes, _I think to myself, blushing again.

"Bella sweetness, blushing like an angel, I want to try something," he murmurs softly. He lowers his face and presses his lips to mine sweetly and gently. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of chest. I kiss him back, not wanting his lips to stop. I put both my hands on either side of his face to hold him right where he is. I love the feeling of his bristly whiskers against my fingers as I stroke my thumbs against his cheeks. His kiss begins to intensify and I welcome it, the wonderfully sensual feel of his touch knocking my brain sideways.

Now I'm no Carrie Bradshaw, but I've kissed a few boys in my day. This particular kiss, however, almost defies description. It feels like Christmas morning and that first bite of double fudge ice cream on a hot day and that flutter of excitement you get sitting on a really fast swing all wrapped up in one incredible, intoxicating sensation.

Our delicious embrace is interrupted by a chirpy voice coming from my doorway. Alice is standing there in her PJs, hands on her hips, a look of sheer glee on her face.

"Thank you sweet baby Jesus, it's about time!" she exclaims, then turns and leaves just as quickly as she came.

Now that the moment is completely ruined, we let the humor of the situation take over and both burst out laughing, shaking our heads. "I believe we were headed downstairs," Edwards says, as he gently carries me out of my room and down the long staircase.

After having a small snack and some water, I feel completely back to normal. Well, as normal as I could feel with this man sitting in front of me with a face that makes a GQ cover model look like yesterday's scrambled eggs. He looks at me and smiles. "Are you getting tired? We can call it a night if you want," he says.

_No, no, no! I couldn't sleep now even if an anvil fell on my head, Bugs Bunny-style. And there is no way I can stand to be away from you right now._

"To be honest, after getting so worked up and then passing out, I'm still pretty awake, but if you need to go to bed, I won't keep you," I say, trying to muster a genuine smile. "I'm a horrible insomniac actually," he confesses. "I usually pass out around dawn, and just for a few hours. I've been like this since high school. It doesn't make me tired. I guess my battery just needs less time to recharge," he says.

"Hey, would you like to see my room? We can hang out there until you get sleepy—only if you want to, of course. If you're not comfortable with it, that's totally OK," he says reassuringly. I have to restrain myself from jumping up and doing cartwheels around the room. Instead I say "no, I don't mind at all. Let's go."

We walk into Edward's bedroom and I try my best to subtly inspect every detail without looking creepy. I'm urged on by the desire to understand this person who's managed to befuddle me so thoroughly with his weird temperament, yet at the same time captivate me like no one ever has before.

His walls are covered in posters. Some are of popular alternative bands, but most are, curiously enough, of vampires, of all things. There's one of Bela Lugosi, who I recognize as the actor most famous for playing Dracula in the movies from the 1930's and 40's. He is standing and leering menacingly over a blonde woman asleep in her bed, his hands bent down at the wrists, his fingers outstretched like claws. I recognize another poster as a portrait of Vlad Dracul, also known as Vlad the Impaler. He's the Romanian prince from the Middle Ages, upon whom the original vampire legend was based upon. There's even a very elaborately carved wooden crucifix on the wall. I inspect a framed engraving that simply says _Nosferatu_ in rich red gothic calligraphy. It's beautiful and eerie at the same time.

"Wow, you're really into vampires," is all I can manage to say.

Edward lets out a small laugh. "Yeah, you could say that," he jokes. "It doesn't freak you out, does it?" he asks. His voice sounds nervous. "No, why would it?" I reply. "I don't know…most girls are put off by it."

"Hmm, well, I'm not like most girls," I say with a sly grin. "I am curious, though, since you appear to be one of those enigmas wrapped in a nutshell," I tease, "as to why a vegetarian who doesn't believe in eating other living things has such a strong interest in mythical creatures that drink blood, of all things?" I ask. "Now that part does make you sort of a weirdo, no offense," I joke.

"Yeah, it's kind of a contradiction, huh? Well, it's not the blood sucking part that interests me. That aspect of it, even though it makes for a good horror story, is just what's on the surface," he explains. "I think the blood drinking is a symbol for any base human desire—you know, the selfish things we do, the sins we commit just to feel good. Could a person find that desire so strong that they'd do anything for it, no matter how much it hurt others? How hard is it to fight that strong pull?" he says rhetorically. "So, to me it's more of an exploration of the human condition than just a scary story."

I listen intently, quite fascinated. Edward is beautiful on the outside but I find that his mind is equally as beautiful. It just makes him that much more attractive to me. It's difficult to comprehend how he can be so well rounded—gorgeous, intelligent, musical, and thoughtful.

I also notice a keyboard on a stand as well as an electric guitar propped against the wall next to it. The keyboard is covered in a pile of sheet music, notes and little notations scattered all over them. "Hey, will you play me something?" I ask. "Please?" I add.

"Uh, sure. I can play you something on the keyboard if you want," he says. "What kind of music do you like?" he asks. "You can play me anything?" I ask, slightly astonished. "No, no," he laughs. "I'm not an iPod. But I'm lucky enough to have perfect pitch. When I hear a melody, I can decipher the individual notes and play them back without having to read the sheet music. If you name a song I'm familiar with, I can play it for you," he explains.

I can't think of anything in particular, so I suggest he pick a song for me. I don't know much classical music, but I recognize the tune immediately. It's Mozart's _Serenade in G,_ from_ Eine Kleine Nachmuzik._ I know it because I have a copy of it that I play every night to help me fall asleep. It's a beautifully slow and soothing piece of music.

All this brilliance is giving me the biggest thrill. "Edward, is there anything you can't do?" I ask. "You're like a supermodel Leonardo da Vinci," I say. "I think you're dazzling the socks off of me," I confess.

"Well I think you're pretty dazzling yourself, Bella sweetness," he says, pulling my hand to draw my body closer to his. He envelops me in his strong warm arms and kisses the top of my head. "Aw, well I don't have perfect pitch or so many varied interests. I'm just, you know, a girl who likes to read and take pictures," I say sheepishly.

"Excuse me?" he says. "You are a lot more than that. I love your sense of humor and that keen brain of yours. Not to mention, I think you're by far the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I'm dumbstruck. _OK this guy must want to get laid pretty badly to use that line. Not that it isn't going down as smooth as silk, but I think I know when a player is playing, _I think.

Now I'm blushing like crazy. "Edward, that's sweet of you to say, but…" I say but he interrupts me. "Bella, your hair is gorgeous," he says as he gently runs his fingers through a lock against my face. "It always looks like you've just taken it down from a pony tail or a bun, all wavy and full, and it smells like flowers," he says. "Your eyes are big and round and the color of my favorite kind of Godiva truffles, only more inviting," he says as the back of his fingers trail along my left temple. "And your lips, God Bella, your lips! Their shape is perfect," he says as he softly caresses them with his fingertips. "And when you blush, all of these things together look even more stunning against your pink cheeks," he says as he lifts my chin to kiss me sweetly.

"But it's not just your face Bella, it's your mannerisms, your demeanor, the way you can look like angel and a bombshell both at the same time," he says, his smoldering green eyes flashing with intensity as he speaks. "I've never been so completely captivated by someone before, and I don't think I ever will again."

_His king takes my queen. Checkmate._

He lays me down on his bed, kissing me everywhere—my lips, my cheeks, my neck, even my hair and my hands. I can't help myself and let my hands roam the terrain of his body. He has lithe, strong muscles everywhere. They feel as if they were chiseled from stone, they are so perfectly formed. I ache to memorize ever inch of him with my hands. I feel the desire welling up inside me like a boiling cauldron.

I take a deep breath. _This is happening too fast, even if it does feel right,_ I think to myself. While I feel completely taken in by everything that's happened in the last couple of hours, my mind wanders back to the two times Edward pushed me away for what seemed to me like no good reason. I need to be honest with myself and realize that I don't trust him enough to really expose myself to him, physically or emotionally. I'm not willing to let someone have that kind of control over me no matter how good it might feel right now.

I slow my movements down and shift slightly away from him, giving him a clear signal that I wish to stop. I dread what's next because he will invariably want to know why I don't want to go further and will try to convince me otherwise. _What guy wouldn't?_ I think to myself.

To my surprise and relief, there is no awkward discussion. He simply cradles my head on his shoulder and kisses my forehead, resting one hand on my back and one on my arm.

"Edward?' I say. "Hmm?" he replies. "I really doubt there's anything about you I wouldn't like." I say with a sigh.

"You should try to sleep Bella, you must be tired by now," he says. I disagree and promptly yawn. He laughs at my childlike stubbornness and kisses my forehead again. He gently hums a melody that I don't recognize but the sound of it is so tranquil and beautiful that soon my eyes grow heavy and I can't fight slumber anymore.

I wake up the next morning in my own bed. Edward must have put me in it but I don't remember him doing so. I sit up and look around. I am alone. There's a note on the pillow next to me and my heart flutters.

_Bella sweetness, I have to head over to the lab to get some work done. I'll be back later. I would love to have dinner with you if you'd allow me the privilege. —E_

_If I'd allow him the privilege? OK, I must not really be awake yet,_ I think to myself. I get up to shower when I'm accosted by Alice, who runs into my room so fast, she's just a blur.

"Oh my God, Bella, tell me everything! You do not leave out a single detail!!" she shrieks at me, her excitement at a near fever-pitch. All I can do is laugh. Somehow I'm not surprised that she's here the minute my eyes open.

"Uh, there isn't much to tell. First we were here, in my room, then we were in the kitchen then we went to his room," I say. "Bella, I do not need a rundown of your tour of the house, and you know it! What happened?!? Did you kiss more? What did he say to you? If you don't tell me, I swear I'll throw all your sweats in the trash," she threatens.

"OK, OK, I give in! Not the sweats!" I plead jokingly. "Well that kiss you saw was the first time. He picked me up because I was still light headed after fainting from the sight of blood when I punched him," I recount. "Wait, whaaat? You _punched_ Edward? Back it up, sister!" she orders.

I tell her all the details of the night before but I'm anxious to ask her some questions of my own.

"Alice, why would Edward tell me I shouldn't be his friend? What does he mean by that? I mean, you're his friend, right?" I ask. "Bella, I'm pretty sure he wants to be more than friends with you," she replies. "OK, then, why shouldn't I be more than his friend? What's up with that?"

Alice looks thoughtful for a minute, as if she's trying to carefully craft what she's about to say. I sense this immediately. "Alice, what is it? Come on, I know that you've known Edward a lot longer than you've known me but chicks before dicks! What are you not telling me?" I ask impatiently.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's that I don't know what to make of it myself. OK, to be honest, I just don't have a lot of details about Edward's love life. He's super private about that stuff. I mean, I've tried—believe me—but he always tells me the same thing, 'there's nothing to tell, I'm not really interested in anyone right now,' is always his answer," she explains.

"But what about his girlfriends, couldn't you get friendly with them?" I ask. "Well, that's just it," she says. "I've never met any girlfriends of his. Actually, let me rephrase that. I've never met a girlfriend because as far as I know, he's never had one." she adds.

My mouth drops. "You have to be kidding. Edward is gorgeous, how is that possible? There were girls all over him at Mike and Tyler's just last night," I say.

"No, that's not it Bella," Alice explains. "I'm sure he gets lots of hook ups. He just never dates any of them. I mean, I've seen him leave parties with girls or flirt with the ones who come to his shows when his band plays, but I've never known him to actually take a girl on a date, at least not more than once," she says. "And he's for sure never brought a girl here or to the dorm we used to live in," she adds, "not for dinner, not to study, not even for a booty call. I'm shocked you were in his room, to be honest. That's the first time a girl has ever been in that Bat Cave of his," she says as she rolls her eyes.

"Huh, that's weird," is all I can manage to say. "How is it that in the two years you've known him, he's never had an interest in a girl that went deeper than a one night stand? He just doesn't seem that shallow," I say as I attempt to figure all this out.

"I don't know Bella. But when you figure out, clue me in too!" she says. "So, what are you guys doing for dinner?" she asks.

"I'm not sure; we haven't planned that far ahead yet. He just left me this note but I haven't actually spoken to him yet today," I reply.

"Well, what are you gonna wear?" she asks. I'm thoroughly not surprised that Alice is curious about that. "Hmmm, not sure, jeans maybe?" I reply. "Oh hell-to-the-no!!! That settles it. Get dressed. Rosalie and I are taking you shopping. And honestly Bella, if I have to see one more pair of white granny panties in your laundry, I think I'm gonna hurl," she exclaims.

_Shit, hitting the mall with Dolce & Gabbana. I better wear my good walking shoes._


	7. You Must Be Forking Kidding Me

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**You Must Be Forking Kidding Me**  
_  
"Keep goin' girl, it's your night  
Don't let him steal your light  
I know he thinks you're fine and stuff  
But does he know how to wind you up?"_

—Gwen Stefani, "Wind It Up"

"Absolutely not, Alice. I am not wearing this," I protest. We're standing in Victoria's Secret and I'm staring down at the flimsy piece of fabric in my hands while wondering how five cents worth of material could really cost so much. Not to mention, g-string underwear isn't exactly my thing.

"I draw the line at butt floss," I insist.

We agree on some cute boy short style panties instead, with a thin strip of lace around the edges and a little bow at the top. I pick out a new bra to match as well. I like the look of what I've chosen. It's a delicate blue color with a pretty lace pattern. It's sexy without going overboard.

Our next stop is to find what I'll be wearing over my underwear. The process is surprisingly painless.

Rosalie hands me two items and says, "This is what you need. I'll be trying on Jimmy Choo's," and walks off.

The first thing is a pair of black capri pants, and the other is a very feminine burgundy top made of satin with a drape neck and short sleeves. I try on both things and find that they fit perfectly. The blouse's color really complements my skin tone. The fit isn't tight, just form fitting, but even that's something I'm not really used to.

_My boobs look like they should just go on this date without me,_ I think to myself.

The capris have a very nice cut to them, which according to Alice makes my butt look "smokin." She next attempts to persuade me to buy a pair of heels, but when I explain that breaking my ankle would really ruin my night, she acquiesces. Instead I opt for a cute pair of black ballet flats made of patent leather. With my new purchases in tow, we head back home. I'm grateful to Rosalie for pointing me in the right direction but I'm afraid if I thank her, she'll pull off her blonde hair, unleashing her head full of live snakes and I'll turn to stone.

"Alright Bella," Alice begins, "you have to let me do your hair and makeup," she insists.

We're sitting on folding chairs in the bathroom in front of the big vanity mirror. I grudgingly agree, but only after I make her promise to keep things as simple and natural as possible.  
_  
I'd rather not turn out looking like the secret love child of Marie Antoinette and Tammy Faye Baker. _

She agrees and at first keeps things minimal until she tries putting the most enormous fake eyelashes on me. "Alice, please," I plead. "I don't think it's attractive when your eyelids look like they might actually take flight and carry you away," I say, only half jokingly.

We start the usual girl talk while she's styling my hair.

"Sooooo, Bella. How much do you like Edward?" she asks.

"I guess I like him a lot. I don't know, it's hard to say. He's been pretty tough to figure out," I reply. "I am attracted to him, that's for sure."

"So, how much are you going to…demonstrate how much you like him?" she asks cryptically.

"Alice, I'm not sure what you said just now was even English," I say with a laugh. "Are you asking how far I'm gonna go with him?" I ask.

She nods her head and grins like the Cheshire Cat. "Well, I don't know, I guess it just depends on how everything plays out tonight. So far we've taken it pretty slowly," I say.

"You should totally let him be your first time, you know, when you're ready," she says. I blush crimson.

"Is it that obvious that I've never done it?" I ask her, feeling slightly mortified if it is.

"Bella, don't be like that!" she says. "No, it's not that obvious. What is obvious is that you guys have some kind of crazy chemistry that people just don't experience very often, and it looks to me like you've never felt like that about anyone before. That's all," she explains. I smile at her insightful reassurance.

"It's not like I had no love life at all in high school. There were a few boys I dated casually, but Forks is such a small town. And everybody, I mean everybody, knows my dad because he's the sheriff," I explain. "I think most guys got scared off just for that reason, plus it's impossible to keep anything private when your dad is a cop with a million friends," I add. "So it's not like I'm avoiding sex, I just haven't met the right person at the right time yet," I conclude.

"Oh, haven't met the right person yet, huh?" Alice says sarcastically. "OK, Bella, whatever you say," she says with a wink and a sly grin.

I roll my eyes at her insinuation, and reply, "Edward _could_ be the right guy. I'm not sure just yet."

"Ha! Well my 'inner Magic Eight Ball' says 'all signs point to yes,'" she proclaims.

I'm dressed and ready to go. It's still a little early and Edward isn't back yet, so I decide to sit downstairs on the bench at the big front window. I grab my well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice to read. It's my favorite book of all time, and I've read it so many times that I now pick it up to read as a way to unwind or calm nerves, like a person would by sipping a glass of wine or doing yoga.

I glance up through the window to see Edward standing right on the other side. He's smiling and has a bouquet of flowers in his hand. It's a beautiful arrangement of roses, tulips, calla lilies, stephanotis and freesia. They're all in various shades of cream and light pink.

"Edward, they're so lovely," I say as he hands them to me and kisses my forehead. "You shouldn't have, really," I protest.

"Of course I should have. The colors reminded me of how your face looks when you blush," he says.

"Thank you, they're beautiful," I reply.

"The flowers _are_ pretty, but they don't compare to how you looked sitting at the window, curled up reading your dog eared book," he tells me, wrapping his arms around me. I feel so warm inside and I hate to admit that my heart feels like it's swelling to the size of a watermelon.

"You look amazing, by the way," he says with a devilish look in his eye. "I can't resist, I have to kiss you Bella," he confesses as he runs his hand through my hair and gently kisses me with those delicious lips of his.

I put the flowers in a vase while Edward quickly changes for dinner. He doesn't shave or comb his hair but he looks insanely handsome that way. _Lucky, gorgeous bastard._ He's wearing a charcoal gray v-neck sweater over a black t-shirt and black flat front khakis that look nicely broken in and a pair of black Doc Martens. The pants hang a little low on his waist without being baggy. _God, he's hot,_ is all I can think.

I grab my purse and we walk to his car. He puts his arm around me and it feels great. For some reason his car isn't parked in front of the house, but rather down the street by Mike and Tyler's. Mike is standing outside chatting with some friends as I realize what's about to go down. I give Mike a quick smile and a wave while Edward just looks at him, his face looking indescribably smug.

_I believe the phrase you're looking for is 'shit eating grin.'_

He leads me around the front of the car when he stops, grabs my face with his hands and begins kissing me like he's been in prison for the last twenty years. His kiss is incredibly eager but not rough.

_Damn big boy, simmah down now! Or not._

Before I know it, his hands are going down my back and stop right on my butt, giving it a gentle squeeze.

_What was I talking about again?_

With both hands clutching my ass, he lifts me off the ground and I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist or I'll fall. He leans forward and sits me on the hood of his Volvo, pushing my shoulders down so that he's lying on top of me and I have my legs around him. He's kissing me with such feverish hunger that I'm going nuts and lose the sense to stop him.

_Thank God I wore pants,_ is the only rational thought I can come up with.

Finally he breaks away from me and lifts me gently by the arm so that I can stand up again. "Shall we go?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" I reply. Then I glance around and see poor Mike looking like someone just kicked him in the shin. This shakes me out of my daze. I feel guilty. Mike is a nice guy and our flirting from the night before was more playful than anything else. I fear I've now jeopardized a perfectly good friendship.

"Edward, don't you think that was a bit much?" I ask as we buckle our seat belts. "I mean, it was a great kiss but it's obvious why you did it. Mike is a nice guy, I would like to keep him as a friend," I explain.

"He's interested in other things besides your friendship," Edward says skeptically. "And I don't share," he informs me with a sly grin. I'm still annoyed but decide not to make an issue out of it, not wanting to put a damper on our evening before it even starts.

"Do you mind if I pick the restaurant?" he asks.

"No, not at all. What did you have in mind?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Well, there's this really cool Ethiopian place downtown. There are a lot of vegetarian choices and it's quite good. I'm assuming since you grew up in Phoenix that food with a little heat is OK with you?" he asks.

"Absolutely. I've never had Ethiopian food. Come to think of it, I don't think I've eaten anything from Africa, period," I say.

"I think you'll enjoy it," he answers.

We get to the restaurant and I take in the décor. There are beautiful woven fabrics on the walls along with assorted wooden carvings and exotic looking musical instruments. Large woven baskets adorn the corners of the room. The tables are unusual, at least to an American like me. Instead of chairs, there are low stools covered in padded leather. Each group of stools surrounds a very large woven basket. It's made with rich multi-colored straw and has a large lid.

I let Edward pick the food since he's more familiar with the menu. To my surprise, everything arrives on one large platter; it's all to be shared instead of served on individual plates. The food comes with large pieces of warm flat bread. They almost look like pancakes.

"This is called _injera_," Edward tells me. "It tastes almost like sourdough. It's good."

He hands me a piece to try and I put it in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. I'm pleasantly surprised by the taste. "It's yummy," I tell him. I feel my face fall a little as I realize something is missing. "Edward, where's the silverware? How are we supposed to eat?"

Edward lets out a small laugh. "OK, don't get mad. The food here doesn't get served with utensils. Ethiopian food is eaten completely by hand," he informs me.

_Say what now? I just bought this damn blouse!_

"You're joking, right? I mean, will they bring me a fork if I ask for one?" I ask. "You know how clumsy I am. I'd walk out of here wearing more food than clothing if I have to eat with my hands," I say, getting slightly alarmed.

_Not to mention, it's not exactly sexy to look like you have the dining habits of a toddler._

"Sure they'll bring you a fork," he says, "but first let me at least show you how to eat the food the traditional way before you ask for one, how's that?" he asks.

"OK, I guess I can watch you do it and see if I can manage," I say.

"We'll do better than that," he says. "Just watch." He rips a piece of injera and uses it like a spoon to ladle some of vegetable stew onto it. I watch as he puts his other hand underneath it to keep from spilling. He delicately brings the food up to my face and says, "Here, let me feed you." I open my mouth and he gently pushes the food passed my lips. It is absolutely delicious. The flavors are fragrant and spicy but not overbearing.

"It's an Ethiopian custom to feed your eating companion. It's called _gursha_ and it's a gesture of affection, almost like giving someone a hug," he tells me as he feeds me some more. With each bite I watch his beautiful long fingers gracefully tear the bread, scoop up the food and bring it to my lips. It is the most sensuous thing I've ever experienced with food.

"Here, why don't you try?" he asks while offering me a piece of bread.

"I don't know Edward, it's probably going to end up all over my new blouse," I say.

"So what? I'll pay your dry cleaning bill," he assures me with a smile.

"I'm gonna look like a dork," I protest.

"Bella," he says, "remember that time I walked into your room when you were dancing?" he asks.

"How could I forget, I felt like an idiot. I'm a horrible dancer, I never dance in front of other people," I say, feeling my face turn red.

"OK, so maybe you're not the next Gene Kelly," he jokes. "But I'll never forget the look you had on your face before you noticed me standing there. It was pure unadulterated joy; it was as if in that moment the entire universe stood still so you could enjoy it. You looked so beautiful," he says, his gorgeous eyes showing his sincerity. "Please, I want to see your face look like that again. I want to see it look like that every day. And I hope I can be worthy enough to help you feel that joy."

_I think I'm dead. Yeah, my heart just stopped. Anybody have a defibrillator I can borrow?_

"Edward, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," I say, earnestly trying not to cry. "You need to kiss me now," I tell him.

"Yes ma'am," is all he manages to get out before my lips are on his.

After our wonderful meal that includes a few spills of food, we decide to head back to the house. I want to hear Edward play some more music. We're in his room and he's playing a classical piece on an acoustic guitar while we sit on his bed. We're sharing a bottle of red wine and I'm slowly taking sips from my glass while I watch him play. He looks unbelievably sexy. His face is fixed in concentration, his brows together and his lips pursed, giving him a look of intensity that is beyond gorgeous. I'm treated to another opportunity to watch his graceful long fingers as they deftly manipulate the strings.  
_  
I think I have a finger fetish. Is there even such a thing?_ I wonder bemusedly.

The song ends and he asks me what I'm thinking. "I…uh…It's hard for me to think about anything when I'm looking at you," I say, somewhat embarrassed.

"There's that blush again. Come here, Bella sweetness," he says with a smile, putting down the guitar and pulling me onto his lap. We kiss while his hand strokes the outside of my thigh. Our kiss gets more intense and I reposition my legs so that I'm straddling him. His hands roam to my ass as I begin to roll my hips back and forth against him. "God, Bella…" he murmurs into my neck. His hands go up and under my shirt, lifting it up as his hands move higher and higher up my back. I put my arms up so that he can pull my blouse over my head.

_Here goes nothin'!_

He grabs my waist so that he can lean me back and look at me. I'm starting to feel self-conscious, so I look down. "You look unbelievable in that bra. God your breasts are unreal," he groans as he eyes my pert nipples through the very thin material of my bra.

_I must be a nice shade of lobster right now._ I'm still looking down.

"Bella, is something wrong? You look really embarrassed," he says. A look of realization strikes his face and he slowly closes his eyes. "Christ, has a guy never seen your boobs before?" he asks. I don't need to answer. My bright red face tells the whole story.

He rolls me off his lap and hands me my blouse. "Bella, I can't do this," he says. "God knows I want to, but I can't," he tells me.

"Edward, I don't understand. I'm not doing anything I'm not comfortable doing," I say, confused and frustrated.

"Bella, this isn't how it should be for someone as beautiful and sweet as you. You deserve better than being groped and leered at on a first date," he says.

_Here we go again._

I put my hand on my forehead and let out a long breath. "I think I know what I need and deserve. Please stop treating me like a stupid puppy," I say, getting annoyed.

"That's not what I meant, don't be mad," he says.

I try to be more reasonable but I'm just too irritated. Not to mention, I think my panties are about to combust into flames. "You know what, I'm just tired. Thanks for a really nice dinner," I say coldly.

"Come on Bella, don't be like this. I hate upsetting you," he tells me.

_Then why do you keep doing it, doofus?_

"Edward, I didn't sleep much last night. I really do need to get some rest," I say. "Let's talk another time." Despite his protests, I leave and go upstairs.

Alice and Rosalie are in Alice's room with the door open. Alice is no doubt waiting for me to walk by so she can interrogate me. I go in her room, shut the door, grab a pillow and scream into it as loud as I can.

"That good, huh Bella?" Rosalie says, not even looking up from her Harper's Bazaar magazine.

"What the hell happened?" Alice asks, looking shocked. I tell her all about the evening—the wonderful dinner, the fun we were having in his room, and then how it all ended.

Alice tries to lift my mood. "I'm sure he's just trying to be a gentleman, you shouldn't take it negatively, really," she says. "I really believe his intentions are good. That should count for something, shouldn't it?" she asks.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," I answer, still not convinced. "I just hate getting worked up like that and then getting the shut down. Not to mention being made to feel like I don't know my own mind, but I guess I can let it slide just this one last time," I say with very clear frustration in my voice.

"Sounds like someone's dickmatized," Rosalie chimes in snidely.

Something in my brain snapped just then. I really was not in the mood.

"Shut up Rosalie. I hope your tits get leprosy!" I snap as I huff out of the room.

I hear Alice howl "Dayum! She said it!" as I stomp down the hall and into my room, locking the deadbolt behind me.

I get under the covers of my bed without even bothering to change. _I just want to wallow in my own funkitude,_ I think grumpily. My room was hotter than the ninth circle of hell again, so I take my top and pants off while lying down and throw them onto the floor in a heap.

_God I'm hornier than a four-balled tomcat._

My hands wander to my breasts, the material of my bra feeling soft and smooth under my fingers. My nipples stiffen quickly. My thoughts drift to Edward and how I'd straddled his lap in his bedroom. It felt so good, his hands all over me and his lips kissing my face, my neck. In my mind I feel his hands on my ass again as I grind against him. My hand is now inside my panties and between my legs, finding the abundant amount of wetness that's still there. I begin to gently stroke myself and a small moan of pleasure escapes me. It's a relief to finally be able to satisfy this urge that's been building up all night. "Edward, God, Edward," I moan as I get very close to climax.

"Bella?" I hear Edward whisper.

_Wow I'm so horny I can hear Edward's voice like he's standing in the room._

"Bella, are you sleeping?"  
_  
Please Lord, let a piano fall out of the sky and land on me—kthanksbye._

"Edward?" I say aloud, wishing like I've never wished before that no one answers.

"Yes, Bella, it's me. Are you up?" he asks. "I came in through the window," he says.

"Do you _ever_ knock?" I ask, sitting bolt upright as I turn on my bedside light.

"Sorry, but I figured you'd ignore me. I thought if I came to the window, you'd have to talk to me," he says sheepishly. "Were you dreaming?" he asks. "You were talking and moaning."

"Um, yeah, I must have been dreaming," I say unconvincingly as I stare down, biting my lower lip and blushing like crazy.

Edward starts chuckling, then let's out a full on laugh. It could even be characterized as a guffaw. "Bella, don't ever go to Vegas. You have the worst poker face I've ever seen," he says, still cracking up.

"Edward, the purpose of your visit, if you please?" I say sharply, dying to change the subject.

"I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier. I'm sorry that I upset you; I don't want you to be angry with me. I was surprised that we were doing something that's new for you, that's all, and I felt like I was taking advantage of you. I didn't want you to regret anything. I wasn't trying to tell you what to do or what to think."

"Well, I'm glad you understand how I feel and you respect it, that means a lot," I reply. I sigh and say "I'm still trying to figure you out Edward. You're very unlike any guy I've ever met."

"Hmm, what kind of guy do you think I am?" he asks.

"I have some theories," I say cryptically, turning my head and squinting slightly.

"Yeah? What kind of theories?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

"Let's see. Maybe you _are_ a vampire and the reason why you think like a Victorian man is because you actually are one," I joke. He laughs.

"So are we good?" he asks with a smile.

"Yeah, we're good," I answer, smiling back.

"Back to the original topic… '_at hand_,' so to speak," he says with a smirk. "What exactly were you doing when I came in?" he persists. My face goes red immediately.

"Bella, were you being naughty?" he asks with fake scolding as he sneaks under the covers with me. "Tell the truth," he says, tickling me now. I'm laughing uncontrollably and trying to wriggle away from him, shrieking for him to stop.

I feel like I should be embarrassed that a guy's in my bed while I'm practically naked but to my surprise I'm not. The urge to explore the depth of my desire for Edward is just too strong. I tell the rational part of my brain to be quiet and let me enjoy myself.

He gathers me in his arms and gives me a long slow kiss. "Let's see if we can pick up where you left off when I so rudely interrupted you," he says in a low husky voice. His mouth is on mine; his hungry kiss urgent and unyielding as his tongue lightly touches mine. His hand trails slowly from my cheek to my neck and down to my breast. I'm running my hands up and down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt to pull it over his head.

He leaves a trail of kisses from my chin down to my neck and then to my chest. With one deft motion he flicks open the front clasp of my bra and his hands are on my bare breasts in an instant. I gasp, the thrill of it exciting me like crazy.

_Note to self: only buy front closure bras from now on._

I somehow manage to get his t-shirt off despite the fact that I'm all thumbs. I touch his bare chest, letting my fingers linger down to the slight trail of hair that leads to his navel. Edward's kissing has now gone to where his hand is gently caressing my breast. The back of his fingers tease my nipple back and forth and I moan, arching my back in response. His mouth is leaving kisses on my breast and he softly drags his tongue over my nipple, tracing little circles on it. He puts his mouth over it and pulls it softly with his lips. Looking down at him doing this gives me a thrill that literally sends a shiver down my spine. He looks up at me, catching my stare with that smoldering gaze of his. He smiles that wicked crooked smile as he licks my nipple while looking right into my eyes. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

My head falls back as I close my eyes and moan "oh God Edward, I think I'm gonna die." I feel his hot breath on my skin as he chuckles.

"Don't die just yet, I'm not done," he jokes.

He starts leaving his trail of kisses once again. He kisses the bottom of my breast, and then moves lower to inspect a mole on my rib cage. He kisses it. His mouth is on my stomach now, and his kisses are getting more eager. He flicks his tongue over my skin with each one.

"Bella, you are prettiest creature I've ever seen," he says in a languid voice as his eyes take me in.

He reaches the top of my panties and gently takes them in his teeth. He moves them down a little, and then lets his hands do the rest, moving himself down toward the foot of the bed.  
_  
I never knew teeth could do that._

His hands are on my thighs now, gently stroking them apart very slowly. He kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other, inching higher and higher as he alternates back and forth. My hips are grinding in anticipation. He kisses one side of my labia, then the other. With his fingers he softly parts me open and licks my clit very lightly. My breath catches in my chest. The sensation is beyond words.

I've used my hand to gratify myself before, but comparing what Edward was doing to me right now to what I've done by myself is like the difference between firing a bullet and throwing it. No words escape my lips; I can only whimper as my writhing increases. His licks have more pressure now and move more quickly. Without thinking, I grab his unruly bronze hair in my fingers. Once again I look down to gaze at this amazing, gorgeous, intelligent man—who has managed to embed himself so firmly into my very soul, both to my sheer delight and utter chagrin. The sight of his beautiful face between my legs as he looks up at me through those incomparable green eyes and thick expressive brows is all it takes. I come in a torrent of shuddering waves, gasping and panting as I say his name over and over.

He gathers me up in his arms once again and asks, "So, how'd you like dessert?" as he kisses my forehead. I laugh as he strokes my hair. Soon he's humming that soothing melody and I drift off, my mind and body in a state of utter bliss.


	8. Mind & Football Games

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Eight: Mind & Football Games**

"_I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows__  
I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes__  
Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies  
You never know just how you look through other peoples' eyes"_

--Butthole Surfers, "Pepper"

I wake up in Edward's arms and sigh contentedly. The clock on my nightstand reads "8:30" as I stretch and yawn, careful not to wake the handsome man sleeping next to me.

Over the last few weeks, Edward and I spent every night together. Our usual routine is to eat dinner together, talk, listen to music, watch old movies…and then move to my bedroom for "dessert." He stays until I fall asleep, and then leaves me to keep his night owl hours. He comes back to finally go to sleep, usually as the sun rises.

Even though I've been getting to know Edward well, I still feel as if he is keeping himself guarded. I can't quite put my finger on what it is that makes him act that way. His feelings for me seem genuine enough, and I know I'm very open about my affection for him.

_More like you are love stoned, sister!_

Our nightly trysts are amazing and exciting but don't go further than they did on the night of our first date. Whenever I try to undress Edward beyond just his shirt, he always stops me. I ask repeatedly if I can pleasure him the way he does me but he refuses every time. "Let's take this slowly," is his response.

I try to sit up in bed when I feel an arm wrap around my waist.

"Where are you going, young lady?" he asks, his voice husky from sleep.

"I don't know, I was thinking of making a nice veggie omelet for this guy I know," I joke.

"Oh yeah? And were you planning on introducing me to this gentleman?" he asks, keeping our little joke going.

"I would, but there's a strange man in my bed keeping me from getting up," I reply. He laughs as he kisses the back of my neck.

_Sigh. If this is just a dream, I really hope I'm in a coma and I don't ever wake up._

Edward needs to leave for the lab right after breakfast. He has a pretty complex project due for his chemistry class and needs work on it until late in the evening. I feel guilty because he would've been finished by now if I hadn't been monopolizing his time. Edward is a very focused student. He wants to follow in his dad's footsteps and become a doctor.

He gives me a tight hug and lingering kiss as he heads out the door.

It's Sunday, and instead of sitting at home moping about being alone, I decide to go out with the other housemates to watch Emmett play football. The game is Dartmouth vs. Harvard and it's an annual event that brings students to the football stadium in droves. It's the ultimate excuse to get together, drink and let off steam. Alice, Jasper, Rosalie and I arrive at the stadium and find our seats.

Because of Emmett's status as a first string, we get to sit right in the middle of all the action. Of course, Rosalie would demand nothing less. I admit to myself grudgingly that she looks amazing today and even kind of cute. She's wearing a v-neck retro-style Dartmouth varsity sweater that hugs her curves like a second skin. Her hair is up in a pony tail and her lipstick is a gorgeous shade of cherry red. I even notice a smile on her face, no doubt for the pride she feels for her man.

People are wandering up and down the aisles, looking for their seats. A large group approaches our row, filling the empty seats beside me. Alice notices them and says "Hey, look who's here! How's it going guys?" She quickly introduces me to everyone, though I doubt I will remember all their names. The person sitting next to me is Jacob, a very handsome, tall guy with long black hair pulled into a pony tail. His skin is an exotic copper color and I guess that he must be at least part Native American.

"It's nice to meet you Bella. How do you like Dartmouth?" he asks.

"I'm enjoying it; the workload is crazy but I'm hanging in there," I reply.

During half time, Jacob and I talk to pass the time.

"Hey, how come Edward isn't here?" he asks.

I explain that he needed to finish his project and couldn't make it.

"That sucks, Ed's a cool guy," he says. I laugh and tell him that I didn't know anyone called him "Ed."

"Eh, he doesn't like it but I do it just to get him worked up. He and I went to prep school together, so we go back a long way," he explains.

_Well this is an interesting piece of information!_

My curiosity is piqued. "Oh, yeah? So you knew him in high school?" I ask.

"Yep, actually our school went from 6th grade all the way up through high school, so longer than that," he says.

"Wow, gosh, I'm so curious, what was he like back then?" I ask. I try to flutter my eyelashes and pray I don't look like I'm having a stroke.

"Um, well I don't want to embarrass him but he was pretty geeky—really thin and scrawny for the longest time. We went to a really snotty-ass school, where everyone was a dumb-shit for the most part but their parents had a boatload of cash. I was there on scholarship, so I didn't screw around. My dad would've kicked my ass!" he says. "So, most of the kids were super clique'ish. Ed and I were both in the nerdy group, until junior year, that is," he explains.

I smile and nod, hoping he continues his little story. "What happened junior year?" I ask timidly, trying to smile sweetly.

"Shit, Edward's gonna hate that I'm telling you this," he says with reluctance in his voice.

"Aw, come on," I protest, forming a slight pout with my lips. "I won't tell if you won't," I say slyly.

_I hope I'm looking cute and coquettish and not just idiotic,_ I think to myself.

"OK, lemme back up first. In the 9th grade, Ed had a crazy crush on a girl named Victoria. She was really pretty, but also the world's nastiest bitch. Everyday he'd carry her books for her, open doors for her, just so she'd look at him. He didn't care. The other guys who were also into her, mostly juniors and seniors, would give him shit—you know, push him out of the way if he was standing next to her, crap like that. This went on for months," he says, shaking his head.

"Did he ever get over her?" I ask.

"Well, one day he tells me that Victoria agreed to go to the movies with him. He shows up to the theatre, all decked out, with a bouquet of flowers and everything. She's there, only with a huge group of people. She sees him and laughs her ass off, telling him she can't believe he actually thought she was serious about going on a date with a dweeb like him. He just stood there with the flowers in his hand, everyone pointing at him and laughing. They chant "Romeo, Romeo" at him like a bunch of douche bags. He got teased at school over that relentlessly, all through 9th and 10th grade. All the popular asshats called him Romeo," he says.

"Oh my God! That's awful," is all I can manage to say in reply. High school can be hellish for some people. My heart sinks for Edward. I can't imagine what that must have been like.

"But the summer before junior year was when Edward really changed. He had a ridiculous growth spurt and he was bulking up. He lifted weights and ran cross country. His acne cleared up and he needed to start shaving. He looked like a different person—totally different—like was old enough to be in college. I guess the chicks must've thought he was good looking, I don't notice that kind of thing 'cause I'm a guy. But they all started hitting on him all of a sudden, including Victoria, who by then was a total skank who screwed the entire lacrosse team but still acted like she was better than everyone else.

"One day at school I hear the intercom chime like the headmaster was gonna make an announcement, only there's two people talking. I hear a guy say 'what do you want me to do to you, Victoria?' and a girl says 'I want you to fuck me, Edward.' They say it over and over, like a recorded loop. It went on for a good five minutes before it got cut off. Ed was suspended for a week. He was almost expelled but his parents knew all the trustees of the school, so his dad got them to overturn the expulsion and even had the whole thing kept off his permanent record.

"After that he was like some kind of cool bad ass hero. He never stopped hanging out with his old friends though. The snotty girls loved him; they all wanted to get with him. He never dated anybody though; he would just hook up with a girl once and then forget about her.

"But don't think Edward's a jerk 'cause he's not," he says, not wanting to appear disloyal to his friend. "He didn't force himself on any of those girls. He didn't have to, they threw themselves at him. None of them were exactly pure as the driven snow, if you know what I mean," he explains.

"No, I don't think Edward's a bad person," I say, reassuringly. "And I'm not surprised all the girls were after him," I add with a chuckle.

Half time is over and I'm glad that our chatting ends so I can work out my thoughts. I'm glad that I learned about this bit of Edward's past. I care for him deeply and want to understand him better. He doesn't strike me as the type to be cruel, but after being tormented for so long like that I can see how he was all too happy to get back at the person who started it all.

Now I know why Alice hasn't ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. This Victoria person left such an emotional scar on him that he's never formed a serious attachment to a woman. But I couldn't reconcile that with the guy I knew. Edward was a really sweet and considerate boyfriend, and he never said a harsh word to me—not when we were fooling around in my bedroom or any other time. He was always a gentleman, in and out of bed. But then again, we hadn't fully consummated our relationship. He resisted when I tried to explore our intimacy further.

I wish I could ask him about it, but I'm afraid he'll feel confronted and retreat away from me like he did when we first met. It would be better if I wait for him to tell me about these things himself.

Over the next few days after that Sunday, Edward and I are too busy with upcoming midterms to do anything but study together. I become thoughtful around him, constantly wanting to say something but finding the words getting stuck in my throat. Even our "dessert" trysts are reduced to cuddling thanks to my period and the lovely cramps that I get with it. Not even being on the pill like I've been for the last year helped much.

Edward and I have just finished dinner and he decides to go rehearse with his band for a few hours.

"Are you sure you don't want to tag along?" he asks.

"No, it's totally fine. I'm probably going to turn in early. It's been a long week," I answer. "You have go fun with your buds," I say reassuringly.

He gives me a long soft kiss before he leaves.

I try to work on a paper but I'm feeling restless. _I need a change of scenery,_ I tell myself. I go to the library, bringing my laptop with me.

I'm greeted by James, who is sitting at the front desk. He's a guy I know from a couple of my classes. He works part time at the library and I see him there often. I never seem to be able to walk by him without him starting a chat, often looking for any excuse to talk. He has an odd way of staring at me that makes me nervous. Frankly, every conversation I have with him leaves me more and more uneasy.

"Hey Bella, how's it going?" he asks.

"Oh you know, same old, same old," I reply quickly, trying not to slow my pace down.

"Hey, what's your rush? The books aren't going anywhere," he says, forcing me to stop.

_Ugh. Leave me alone, creepy dude!_

I let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I guess you're right," I say.

"So are you going to the mixer at the student union this weekend? It's gonna be hardcore," he says.

_I'm sorry Creepy James, but nothing hosted by the Student Fun Association or whatever the hell they call it is ever "hardcore." It's not even "softcore."_

"Um, no, I didn't even know about it," I reply.

"Bella, you should totally go," he insists.

"I don't think so James, I have lots of work," I say as firmly as possible.

"Not even if we, you know, we went as 'a couple?'" he asks using cheesy air quotes.

_Good grief, especially not as a couple, freakazoid! I think I'd rather chew broken glass._

"James, I have a boyfriend," I inform him.

"Oh OK, I get it. You're brushing me off," he says, getting visibly agitated.

"No I'm not! I really have a boyfriend," I say, starting to feel really weirded out.

"You really shouldn't lie, Bella. No likes a liar," his face twisting in anger.

He turns and walks away.

I shake my head and continue my walk toward my favorite table by the window. Once there, I start up my laptop. I work on my paper for a good hour but can't concentrate much after that. I pack my things up into my back pack and leave the library, relieved that James isn't at the front desk when I walk out. The streets on campus are unusually quiet because most people are holed up studying. I quicken my pace, trying to stay within the most well lit areas of the street.

I turn a corner and literally run into two guys who are very obviously drunk. I can smell the sharp odor of alcohol on both of them. They're both wearing sweatshirts with the same Greek letters on them.

Gray Sweatshirt greets me with "hey baby, where you headed? Wanna party with us?"

_Let me think about that. Um, no._

Red Sweatshirt grabs my arm as I try to walk away. "Hey, come on, don't go, we're just gettin started," he says, slurring his words. He pulls me back toward him and gives me a hug that makes my skin crawl.

"Come on guys, you're both pretty drunk, you need to walk it off or get some coffee," I say, feeling sheer panic but trying not to show it.

_Just leave me the fuck alone!_

I try to walk away but they've both got a hold of me. Gray Sweatshirt grabs my face roughly. "I wanna party with you 'cause you're really hot," he says with his face inches from mine. He tries to kiss me but I wrench my head away from him. I feel nausea quaking inside me.

They bounce me back and forth between them as I try to break free so I can run. My heart is racing and my mouth is bone dry.

"Stop it! GET AWAY FROM ME!" I scream as loud as I can.

"Shut the fuck up!" Red Sweatshirt barks at me. "I wanna see what you got going on here, baby," he says as he puts his hand on my breast over my pullover, pawing me roughly. I try to pull away but they've each got one of my arms.

_Please God, just make them let go of me so I can at least try to fight them off._

Just then I hear a car engine roar and tires burn against asphalt. I turn and see Edward's silver Volvo spin to a stop.

Edward is out of the car like a shot and grabs me before I know what's happening.

"Bella, get in the car. Now!" he says through clenched teeth. He has an expression on his face that I've never seen before. His eyes look absolutely crazed, wide and darting back and forth. His mouth is a firm straight line.

I run to the car, desperate to sit and try to calm my nerves but I leave the door open so I can yell to Edward to come back.

Before I can say anything, Edward grabs Red Sweatshirt's hand, bending it all the way back and twisting it in one quick motion. Red Sweatshirt's knees give out as he howls in pain from what now must be a broken wrist. This provides Gray Sweatshirt with no incentive to stick around and he runs down the street as fast as he can.

"Don't you ever fucking touch what's mine, you fucking maggot!" Edward yells at Red Sweatshirt, who is on the ground clutching his wrist.

"Don't. You. Ever. Fucking. Touch. What's. Mine." he hollers, punctuating each word with a kick to Red Sweatshirt's back.

Edward just seems to be getting more incensed and I'm more afraid of what he'll do than I was of the two drunken dickheads.

_Fuck he's gonna kill this guy._

"Edward, please, I want to go home," I plead. "Please take me home."

Hearing my voice, he looks at me and this seems to snap him out of his rage. He gets back in the car and we speed away.

"Did they hurt you? Are you alright?" he asks in an urgent voice.

"I'm OK, they just scared me." I answer. "How'd you find me?" I ask.

"When I got back from rehearsal, Alice told me you'd gone to the library. You weren't answering your cell so I got worried and just drove the route from our house to the library until I spotted you," he explained.

I remember my cell, its battery dead, in my backpack. _Shit._

I look at Edward and his expression is still stony and I can see his jaw clenching. A vein in his forehead is bulging prominently. His fingers are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel that I'm afraid he's going to break it.

We're silent for the rest of short drive to the house and Edward parks in front.

"Edward, are you OK?" I ask as we sit in the parked car.

He laughs and shakes his head. "Bella, only you would ask someone if they're OK after you're the one that had the horrible experience," he says, his expression incredulous.

"It's not that, it's just…I've never seen you so worked up," I say.

"Why the hell were you walking home alone?" he snaps, still angry.

"I walk home from the library all the time," I answer meekly.

"Well, you're not going to anymore, not at this time of night anyway," he says sternly.

"Edward, please don't tell me what to do," I reply, bristled by his tone.

"Damn it, Bella! If you were so good at making your own decisions, you wouldn't have walked home alone in the first place. Don't do ridiculous things and I won't tell you what to do," he says harshly.

"You're totally overreacting, I can take care of my—"

"Christ, stop being a child!" he snaps with a raised voice, interrupting me.

I feel tears coming. Between the horrible scare I just had, Edward's sharp words and my rising anger, I just can't keep it together anymore. I turn my face away so he can't see my face start to crack. A short sniffle escapes me before I can hold it back.

_Shit, if I seemed like a baby before…_

"Are you crying?" he asks. I don't answer.

Edward rubs his face with his hands for a few seconds, realizing that he shouldn't have lost his temper. He leans closer to me.

"Bella, please don't cry. God, I feel like a complete asshole. Sweetie please, I'm sorry. I can't take seeing you upset, especially over something I said no less," he says in a desperate tone.

I want to answer but my tears are coming too fast for me to talk.

_Ugh, I hate blubbering like this._

He grabs my hand and starts kissing it all over. "Bella sweetness, I'm begging you, don't cry," he says remorsefully, gently nudging my chin so that I'm facing him.

"I love you," he says in soft voice.

I look into his beautiful eyes. His expression is so tender, I'm almost tempted to keep crying.

_I've loved you ever since the first moment I saw you that day on the green playing touch football. What took you so long to catch up to me?_

"I love you too, Edward, I love you like I've never loved anyone else," I say, my voice breaking from crying.

He lifts my chin and kisses me gently on the lips, then wipes my tears away with his hand. Holding me in his arms, he gently cups his hand around the back of my head and kisses my hair. "No more crying now," he murmurs.

"If anything ever happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. I think I'd lose my mind," he says, his voice tight.

"I'm sorry I made you so mad," I say in a whisper, feeling guilty.

He lets out a sigh. "Silly Bella, you don't ever have anything to be sorry about," he whispers and kisses my forehead.

We go inside and the other housemates are all downstairs in the living room watching a DVD. Edward heads straight to Emmett and Jasper while I take a seat next to Alice and tell her what happened. She gasps as she hears my story and gives me such a tight hug that she squeezes the breath out of me.

The three guys stand huddled together on the other side of the room and talk in hushed voices. Emmett looks at me.

"Bella, are you OK? Edward told me some guys were bugging you?" Emmett asks.

"Yeah, they were drunk. Edward showed up before anything bad happened." I answer.

"Do you remember anything about them? Like did you hear their names or anything?" he asks.

"I didn't hear their names but they were wearing sweatshirts with Greek letters on them—a triangle and a 'T,' so Delta Tau, I guess." I reply.

"OK, kid, thanks," he says with a smile.

Emmett gets out his cell phone.

"Yeah, s'up Dukie? Listen, we got a pick up game of kickball," he says cryptically. "Meet me in front of Delta Tau. Call Shorty and Tank too. There's two of them that need to get schooled. Yeah, they were messin' with Edward's girl. No, no, he's not coming," he says as he looks at Edward. "He wouldn't know when the game was over," he says. Edward's jaw is clenching as he listens to Emmett's words.

"Cool, meet you in 15, dude," Emmett says and ends the call.

I want to tell them not to do what I know they're planning on doing but I worry that it will just get Edward worked up again.

"Alice, do they really need to go after those guys?" I ask in a low voice. "I don't want anyone to get seriously hurt, and I don't want anyone getting expelled over this," I say, getting worried.

Rosalie answers before Alice does. "Bella, there's a reason why girls call the Delta Tau house 'Date Rape Central,'" she says. "These guys have it coming to them," she adds.

"But I really don't want Emmett or Jasper or anyone else to get in trouble," I say.

"Bella, Emmett and his football buddies are untouchable on this campus. The other guys in the frat won't even stick up for those two assholes," Alice says. "And the administration turns a blind eye when it comes to the football team," she explains.

I nod, feeling less anxious now. I think about the next scared girl who bumps into those jerks while walking home and I don't feel so guilty anymore.

As Emmett and Jasper are heading out the door, Rosalie looks up and warns "Emmett, don't you dare get blood on that shirt. It's Armani."

Emmett laughs and shuts the door behind him.

Edward and I go to his bedroom. I'm too wound up to sleep. I sit on the bed and Edward brings me a glass of wine from the kitchen. He gives me a shoulder massage that feels heavenly and I begin to feel the stress ebbing away.

"Edward?" I say.

"Hmm?" he replies.

"I met an old friend of yours at the game the other day—Jacob. He says you guys went to prep school together," I say, waiting to gauge his reaction.

"Oh yeah? Jacob is a cool guy. I've known him a long time," he answers, his voice revealing nothing.

_Why do I feel like I'm about to wake a sleeping lion?_

"He told me about what happened with Victoria," I say, silently praying he doesn't react badly.

Edward takes a deep breath and sits next to me on the bed.

_Shit I hope I didn't hit a nerve._

"I'm not proud of what I did to Victoria, Bella," he says, his voice remorseful.

"I don't think I can blame you for it," I reply.

"Well it was still wrong. I should've been the better person and ignored the temptation to get revenge," he says, sounding regretful. "That temptation to get back at the people who had been so shitty to me ultimately led me down a path that I'm not particularly proud of. My desire to gratify my ego took control," he admits.

_Just ask him, just ask him…_

"Edward, why do you insist that we only go 'so far' when we're fooling around? Why can't I even touch you?" I ask, hoping I'm not pushing the conversation too far. "Is there any other reason besides your fear that I will regret moving too quickly?" I ask, probing further.

"Bella, you're a lot more observant than I give you credit for," he says. "You already know the answer to your question, don't you?" he asks.

"Yes, I think I do," I reply in a soft voice.

"What do you think it is?" he asks.

"You only sleep with women to use them. You don't even like them, and show no interest in them afterward," I say in hushed voice.

"Doesn't that upset you?" he asks with a worried look on his face.

"No. It doesn't matter," I say with conviction.

"It doesn't matter?" he asks incredulously. "I've never had a sexual encounter that meant anything to me—other than to satisfy my urges—that doesn't matter to you?"

_Why doesn't he see how stupid that question is?_

"No, because I love you and know you'd never hurt me," I answer matter-of-factly.

He shakes his head.

"Bella, I think you're more of a mystery to me than I am to you," he says, his lips turning up to smile.

I wrap my arms around him and we share a warm embrace for a few minutes. He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.

"You know what we need, Bella sweetness?" he asks, twirling a lock of my hair.

"What's that, my love?" I reply as I rest my head against the nape of his neck, taking in my favorite scent of cinnamon and musk.

"We need to take a road trip," he declares, gently pushing my lock of hair behind my ear.

"That sounds like fun," I reply, "where should we go?" I ask, curiously.

"Have you ever been to Canada?" he asks.

_Funny you should ask that._


	9. Blame Canada

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Nine: Blame Canada**

"_I am thinking it's a sign  
That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images  
And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned  
I have to speculate  
That God himself did make  
Us into corresponding shapes  
Like puzzle pieces from the clay"_

—The Postal Service, "Such Great Heights"

I leave all the details of our trip to Edward since he's so insistent on handling them himself. Although I'm not so big on being fussed over, I don't want to spoil things for him since he seems so enthusiastic. I offer to pay my share of the expenses but he won't hear of that either. I know that Edward's family is wealthy and comes from old money but I feel weird about letting him pay for things all the time.

We get to Montréal in a little over three hours, easily making good time since Edward has no concept at all of what speed limits are. As we get to our destination, I'm overwhelmed by how beautiful it is and try to take in everything I see.

Montréal is a charming, old port city. I've never seen any place quite like it. The architecture is interesting in that it's a neat mixture of old and new. There are modern skyscrapers but there are also 18th and 19th century stone buildings, including the Notre Dame Basilica—a wonderful old gothic-style cathedral.

Our hotel is in Old Montréal which is the historic portion of the city. There are charming cobblestone streets, quaint little cafés, and beautiful small brick buildings that house various shops.

We arrive at the hotel, situated on historic Bonsecours Street. On the outside, it's a pretty simple stone-faced gray building with dark red trim, and it looks almost like an old farmhouse. There's a plaque by the door that reads _La Maison Pierre du Calvet, 1725_. When I walk inside, my jaw almost drops to the floor. It is the most elegant, amazing Georgian and Baroque style mansion I have ever laid eyes on.

_I'm at Mr. Darcy's estate. I'm at Pemberley._

I feel as if I'm dreaming. If there's any place on Earth that looks like what I imagine when I think about the setting of _Pride and Prejudice,_ this is it. There are stone walls with exposed bricks, heavy wood beams in the ceiling and elaborately carved woodworks on the walls. The furnishings are all antique, in rich colors with lavish wood details painted gold. The décor is antique as well, with delicate vases and sculptures of all sizes on small tables, elegant portraits on the walls and lavishly detailed chandeliers on the ceilings. Heavy brocade draperies hang over the windows.

"Edward," I gasp as I turn and look at him. "I'm speechless. This place, it's unbelievably perfect," I say, feeling overwhelmed. I practically leap into his arms and hug him as we stand at the reception desk to check in. "Bringing me here—it's the sweetest thing anyone could do for me. Thank you so much." I say, beaming from ear to ear.

"You're very welcome, Bella," he says before giving me a sweet kiss. "I told you how much I love to see that joyful look on your face, and I was hoping if I brought you here, I'd see it again," he explains.

"Well played, Cullen, well played," I joke.

We go up to our room and once again I'm awestruck. The hotel room is simply breathtaking. There's a large bed draped in beautiful linens, with an elaborately carved four poster mahogany canopy painted black and gold. On the opposite wall is a stone fireplace. More antiques adorn the nightstands and dressers.

"Are you finding the accommodations to your liking, Miss Swan?" Edward asks as he bows his head and kisses my hand. 

_Swoon._

"I am finding them to be wonderful, and beautiful, and amazing, Mr. Cullen," I reply, "much like the way I find you," I add, putting my arms around him. 

_A girl could get used to this._

"So, why don't we get ready for dinner? I can run a bath for you if you like," Edward offers, ever the thoughtful gentleman.

"That, my dear, sounds completely delightful," I reply with a smile. "Oh, and Edward," I add, "Thank you again, for everything," I say, feeling grateful and loved and cared for like I never have before.

"It makes me happy to do nice things for you. So please, no more 'thank you's' and no complaints about being pampered, OK?" I nod with a smile.

Edward prepares a bath for me that is simply divine. The bathroom has candles burning everywhere and the lights are dimmed low. I can smell a wonderful flowery scent—a mixture of rose and carnation—wafting through the room. Edward is pouring bath oil into an enormous claw foot bath tub as it's filling with water. I peer over and see red rose petals floating at the top. He turns the tap off and gently eases me in, holding me steady by the hand.

"Edward, do you think this tub would fit in my room back at school?" I ask jokingly as I lean my head back and close my eyes. He laughs as he squeezes some bath gel into his palm. He puts his other hand into the water and gently extracts my foot. He lathers the sole, working small circles into it with his thumb. When he's finished, he lowers my foot back into the water and repeats his work on my other foot. 

_I'm never complaining about being fussed over ever again. Fuss me, Edward! FUSS ME!!_

After my truly soul invigorating bath, we have dinner at a romantic little restaurant where Edward orders everything in flawless French. He must have noticed me looking at him with stars in my eyes because he gives me a sly smile.

"Summers in the South of France when I was a kid," he explains.

"I spent summers in Forks, where it rains 364½ days a year. Somehow I think I got the fuzzy end of the lollipop when I compare my vacations to yours," I joke.

We spend the next day taking in the sights, visiting the Montréal Museum of Fine Arts and then go exploring all the stores around our hotel in Old Montréal. I discover, to my sheer delight, a tiny shop that sells gourmet herbs and spices, among other culinary goodies.

"Edward, I _need_ to go in here!" I tell him, pointing at the shop's window. I'm feeling like Alice all of a sudden.

"OK," he says, "You go indulge your inner gastronome and I'll check out the bookstore down the street, how's that?" he asks.

"Perfect. You may need to drag me out of here kicking and screaming though, I'm warning you right now," I say jokingly.

"Not a problem. I've been to the mall with Alice before. I'm a licensed shopping interventionist," he jokes back. He gives me a quick peck on the lips and we part ways.

We're back at the hotel after our long day of sight-seeing and shopping. Edward starts a fire in the fireplace and then sits on the bed to relax and listen to his iPod. I decide to tidy up our hotel room a bit. We've got all sorts of shopping bags strewn all over and I start trying to organize them into a neat pile. I grab a plastic bag off the floor and notice it's from the bookstore Edward did some shopping in. I clumsily pick it up from the wrong end and the entire contents spill out. 

_Crap._ I pick everything up from the floor when one item in particular catches my eye.

It's a large glossy book.

I recognize the woman on the cover immediately. It's Bettie Page, the 1950's pin-up model. She has long, jet black hair with thick bangs cut short. She's wearing a tight black corset, fishnet stockings and black stiletto heels.

Edward is suddenly standing next to me, looking slightly agitated.

"Uh, Bella, you weren't supposed to see that," Edward says, sounding nervous.

"Oh, how come?" I ask, wondering why he would want to keep it a secret.

"Because, you know, it's not exactly _Pride and Prejudice_," he says uncomfortably.

"It's Bettie Page, I've seen pictures of her before. She's gorgeous," I say.

"Yeah, but you're much prettier, even in your sweats," he says with a smile.

_Don't try to flatter your way out of this, young man. OK, you can try but it won't work!_

"Can I look at it?" I ask, holding up the book up.

"Bella, it's not something I'm exactly happy showing you," he says, his expression becoming slightly frustrated. "There are things about me you probably wouldn't be comfortable with. The fact that I bought that book is one of them," he explains, his expression brooding.

_Seriously? Geez, not this again!_

"Edward, why don't you let me look at it so I can decide for myself what I like and don't like about you?" I ask, trying to reason with him.

He sighs in resignation.

We sit on the edge of the bed together and look through the book, studying the various photographs. In some, she's just posing on a couch looking very seductive in a tight corset. In others, she's holding a riding crop. In some, her arms are tied to the chair she's sitting on. I don't find these poses disturbing, despite what Edward seems to think. As an amateur photographer, I can see how they're meant to be erotic but not pornographic. There's absolutely no nudity. Her breasts aren't even exposed. There's nothing violent about them in the slightest.

I almost want to ask Edward what the big deal is, but he looks ashamed, anticipating that I will find all of this disgusting.

_Nothing about this man could ever disgust me._

"Edward, if you think I'm bothered by this, you're wrong. They're just titillating pictures. Photography is my favorite hobby, remember? I know the difference between porn and erotica. This is erotica," I tell him.

"You're not disturbed by any of this? You don't think it's strange or gross?" he asks.

"Nope."

"Really?"

"Really really," I assure him. "I mean if you showed me this book and then said 'oh by the way, I have another girlfriend who's actually a goat,' then I'd be a little turned off," I joke.

"Look, I know I haven't dated many guys before you, but it's not like I lived a completely sheltered life before we met. I spent most of my life in Phoenix living with a mom who was very much a free spirit who appreciated art and all other kinds of creative endeavors." I explain.

"I know you like to think of me as your innocent angel but I am just a person, like you," I add. "I mean the whole reason why I came all the way to Dartmouth from Forks was to expand my horizons, to experience life outside the tiny town where my dad's the sheriff."

"Besides, do you really think a book with some kinky pictures in it is going to make me decide 'gee, I just don't love you anymore'?" I ask, giving him a reproachful look. "Have a little more faith," I scold lightly.

"You're not bothered by the idea that I like looking at women dressed like this, in these poses, especially given my history with women?" he asks, sounding very skeptical.

"I don't understand," I say, becoming puzzled. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"Bella," he says, his expression thoughtful, "I don't think I've ever treated a woman with any kind of decency. I didn't even see the women I was with as people. I just got what I wanted and tossed them aside, like they were objects I could dispose of. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, over and over," he says, his face overwrought with guilt.

I take a minute to think so I can process what he's saying, and it doesn't take me long to figure out exactly how to respond.

_I'm getting to the bottom of this once and for all._

"Do you think of me that way?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"Of course not!" he answers immediately, a look of alarm flashing across his face. "Please don't ever think that, Bella. You're different from anyone I've ever been with. Not just different—better than any woman I've ever met before. And you're better than me. I'm not one-tenth the person you are." he adds.

"That is so not true," I answer firmly while shaking my head. "Like I said, I'm just a person. Just like everyone else, I screw up. I do bad things. I do selfish things. I am not better than you, or frailer than you, or more caring than you, or anything else," I explain.

I'm thoughtful for a moment before I continue. "Edward, do you think you don't deserve to be with me, that you only deserve empty one night stands that just make you feel hollow inside?"

He doesn't answer. His eyes are downcast and look sadder than I've ever seen them.

_OK, this nonsense ends now._

I sigh and look straight into his face so he can understand that I'm not just sincere about what I'm about to say, I mean it with all my heart.

"My love, what on earth would make you think that? First of all, I wouldn't be here if _I_ thought you weren't good enough for me. I've never met anyone like you. I wanted to kiss you ten minutes after we met! And even when we were fighting, I couldn't really stay mad at you. I mean, crap, I couldn't even cook dinner without thinking about you and making sure you had something to eat too. That night Mike was flirting with me, all I wanted to do was make sure you were jealous over it. Our first kiss and first date made me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I would never feel that way about someone who was unworthy of me," I say as I gently stroke his hand.

He looks up at me, giving me a weak smile. His eyes aren't looking as sad anymore.

"Bella," he says, "when we first met, I felt emotions that I thought I'd left dead and buried when I was fourteen. But at the same time, I had such a strong physical attraction to you, I felt completely consumed by it. I was so conflicted, it was torturing me. I wanted to be around you but didn't want to think of you in the same way I'd thought of every other woman I'd been with," he confesses. "That's why I left the room when all I really wanted to do was kiss you, and that's why when I saw you with your shirt ripped open, looking so tempting and yet so innocent and perfect at the same time, I couldn't even trust myself to speak to you," he says.

"Edward," I say, putting my hand to his cheek, "even when you can't trust yourself, you can _always_ trust me." He takes my hand and kisses it sweetly.

"You can't really believe that you're incapable of leaving all that negative stuff behind?" I say, trying to buoy him. "It doesn't matter how you used to behave or think. Your past is just that—your past. I don't give a crap about Victoria or the girls that came after her. I only care about what happens now. We can't experience new things together if we have to drag the past around with us the whole time," I say, trying to reassure him.

I lean my face into his and lift his chin gently. "Silly Edward," I chide with a smile. He looks up at me and I see the relief in his eyes, like he'd had an enormous burden lifted off of him. We give each other a soft, tender kiss.

I turn my attention back to the book that's still sitting on Edward's lap, hoping to finally to put to rest the idea that I would put off by it.

"OK, in this shot," I say, pointing to the open page, "she's just sitting on a stool looking very provocative. What she's wearing, the bustier and stockings, uh, she's really sexy and alluring the way she's looking into the camera…" my voice trails off. I blush slightly.

"Bella…are you…getting turned on?" he asks, in surprise.

"I guess, I mean, it's, you know, there's a reason why they call it 'erotica,'" I sputter.

"Holy shit, you _are_ getting turned on," he says closing his eyes and letting out a small groan. "Mary, Mother of God," he murmurs, putting his hand over his eyes. "I couldn't even dream this up in my wildest fantasies. Bella, you have no idea the effect you have on me," he says, trying to remain calm and biting his lower lip. I'm not entirely sure but I think his hands might be shaking.

We look at each other. His nostrils are flaring as he gives me a sideways glance and raises his eyebrow. Without thinking, I lick my lips like I'm about to sink them into a juicy barbequed rib.

"Edward!" I gasp in a husky voice.

"Bella!" he groans back.

I literally lunge at him as he flings the book across the room. I straddle his lap and we're necking like two horny high school kids. Edward's hands are all over me, groping my ass and my boobs as I rub one hand up and down his chest while the other is clenching a fistful of his hair. We both tear our shirts off at the same time. I grab the straps of my bra and work my arms out of them. He helps me by just pulling my bra down to my waist, not even bothering to unclasp it. All the while we never stop our one very hungry, very long kiss.

He turns me and then pushes me back so that we're lying down and he's on top of me.

"Jesus, Bella I love you so much," he moans with abject lust. "You _are_ my angel—my perfect, beautiful, funny, smart, sexy angel," he says, kissing my neck with each word.

He cups one of my breasts and I moan softly.

"I love you too Edward, so much it hurts," I reply sincerely as I run my hands up and down his back.

I've never seen Edward so worked up. He was always passionate, but he was also always very controlled and treated me very delicately. This felt more like when he kissed me on top of the Volvo in front of Mike's house.

_God bless you, Bettie Page._

It's thrilling to see that I have this effect on him, and I don't want to stop. I place my hand on his chest, gently moving it to his abdomen then down lower to his navel until my hand stops on top of the zipper of his jeans. I can feel a _really_ obvious bulge.

_Oh my._

This wasn't the first time I'd felt Edward's arousal. Usually it would be up against my thigh or my back (if we were spooning in my bed,) but he was always careful to shift himself away, probably to maintain that control he always needed to have. This was the first time I was deliberately touching it with my hand.

"Bella," he moans. "You shouldn't," he protests as he puts his hand on mine, preventing me from moving it.

"Edward, I want to. I want to make you feel good the way you make me feel good," I say, my voice smoky. "I want to learn how, please," I add.

"Oh God, Bella, don't talk like that, I'm begging you!" he groans.

I ignore him, pushing his hand off mine. He doesn't fight me.

_Finally! You'd think I was the dude and he was the chick. You drive me nuts, Prudeward!_

I gently rub my hand against him, stroking up and down. He groans my name.

I push him lightly so that he rolls off me and lies on his back, his head and shoulders propped up on the pillows. I unzip his jeans, take them off and throw them on the floor, then do the same with my own. I toss my bra to the floor as well, leaving just my panties on.

Nothing prepares me for the glorious sight lying on the bed in front of me.

_Oh. My. God. _

_Sweet, sweet, mercy._

I'd never seen Edward with so little clothes on. Looking at his very close-to-naked body now makes me think I'm staring at something so perfect, it's almost sacred. His muscles are extremely well defined but definitely not bulky. He has beautifully broad shoulders and strong long arms. His chest has a light smattering of hair that narrows down to a line to his navel and then to his groin. His long legs are perfectly toned. Even his feet are sexy.

_Must…feast…eyes…on…best…part._

I can see the clear outline of his erection straining against his snug black boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination. I remind myself to tell Rosalie that the rumors about Edward's endowment are, in fact, true.

_Victoria Beckham, you can keep David. I have Edward Fucking Cullen._

His gorgeous face is looking up at me with that smoldering gaze with his thick expressive brows that always make him look so serious. His unbelievably perfect jawline frames that gorgeous mouth as it turns up into a crooked smile that always makes me crazy. His eyes are half closed and his expression exudes raw sex.

_Dear Dr. & Mrs. Cullen, thank you from the bottom of my loins. Love, Bella_

I get back on the bed, lying on my side next to him, my hand stroking him outside his boxer briefs. He moans "God, Bella," softly as he runs the back of his fingers across my cheek. I turn my face and kiss the center of his palm.

I lower myself so that my head is at his pelvis, all the while continuing to stroke him.

_I want to experience everything with this man. I love him so damned much._

I gently ease the waistband of his boxer briefs down and lower them. Seeing "all of him" like this for the first time gives me a thrill I can't really describe.

_I'm pretty sure this totally ruins my expectations of the next naked guy I see._

I put my hand around him and gently stroke him up and down. Edward takes in a sharp breath and groans. The feeling I get from pleasuring him like this is phenomenal.

_I love turning him on._

"Tell me what feels good, Edward," I say.

He doesn't answer. He just moans.

_Hmm, this takes a lot less prowess than I thought._

I move my head closer so that my mouth is right above him while my hand is still wrapped around him.

"Oh God, Bella," he mutters with a groan.

I lick the tip of his cock with my tongue. Then I softly wrap my mouth around it. Edward takes a deep breath through his teeth and moans again.

I guess (correctly) that my mouth should move the way my hand did, in up and down strokes. Edward's breathing becomes slightly ragged.

"You…feel so good," he murmurs.

I realize that Edward becomes more or less worked up depending on how fast I'm moving. Having this kind of control over his ecstasy makes me feel unbelievably aroused. I feel moisture and heat between my legs that's driving me crazy and I'm desperate to do something about it. I shift my position so that I'm on all fours next to him. No longer able to stand anymore, I start to touch myself with my free hand.

He softly moans my name, no doubt because he sees where I just put my hand.

Gradually I speed up my head's movements. Edward's breathing gets more ragged and the pace has quickened as well.

"God, you are so beautiful, Bella. God, I love you," he moans as he begins to pant.

I'm so aroused now that I'm about to lose my mind entirely. Seeing the effect I'm having on the man I love, the way I am making him feel so good, is exciting me like nothing I've ever felt before.

"Bella, I'm really close. I'm gonna cum," he says in a low groan.

I look up at Edward's face and our eyes lock, his stare mesmerizing me like it always did. I see the look of ecstasy on the face of this unbelievably gorgeous, incredible man who inexplicably managed to fall in love with me, and I have the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced. Spasms emanate from deep inside me and wash over my whole body as a long moan hums from my lips.

This puts Edward over the edge and soon low, deep grunts escape from his lips and his body begins to jerk slightly. I feel his muscles contract as he cums in my mouth. I taste a slightly bitter, salty liquid that I decide to just swallow rather than interrupt the intense experience we're having.

Edward grabs me and pulls me up, wrapping his body around me like a cocoon and covering me everywhere in light kisses.

"Edward, I have no words. I don't even think 'I love you' is enough," I whisper.

"It's not," he replies.

We're lying together in each other's arms when I notice that Edward stops humming his usual bedtime melody. To my surprise, he's already fallen asleep even though it was still hours until sunrise.


	10. Lovers & Haters

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Ten: Lovers & Haters**

"_Tied up in ancient history  
I didn't believe in destiny  
I look up you're standing next to me  
What a feeling  
What a feeling in my soul  
Love burns brighter than sunshine"_

—Aqualung, "Brighter Than Sunshine"

I'm sitting in my Intro to Literary Theory class but I can't concentrate. The professor looks like he's around 107 years old and he has not aged well.

_He kind of reminds me of the Crypt Keeper, only not as handsome, and not as engaging a speaker._

His craggy old man voice is only registering as a distant drone in my head:

_The central tenet of…blah…New Criticism...blah…Wimsatt and Beardsley…blah…against discussion of an author's…blah blah blah_

Normally I'm not so grumpy about listening to lectures, even if they are pretty boring, but I'm in a foul mood today.

In the first few days after our return from Montréal, my life was like one long contented dream. Edward and I reached a major turning point and overcame all the bumps we experienced when we first met. We also had a really good time together. Yes, the bedroom antics were amazing but even aside from that, we really and truly enjoyed each other's company, even with our clothes on.

And then like a delicate bubble, my fuzzy-headed happiness cloud popped and disappeared.

Edward's parents called to say they'd be coming to New Hampshire in a few days, stopping by on their way to Dr. Cullen's medical conference in Boston. A few days have now passed and they'll be meeting us for brunch tomorrow.

Edward tried so hard to assuage my feelings of sheer terror, assuring me that his parents were actually quite nice and very approachable. But then I reminded him of how we first met and my uncanny way of making horrendous first impressions. He laughed at that and insisted that it was pretty difficult to make a bad impression on them.

_Trust me; I can make the difficult look quite easy._

Class is almost over and I notice for the umpteenth time that Creepy James is staring at me. Ever since that night in the library when I turned him down for a date, he's been acting stranger and stranger. He doesn't actually talk to me face to face. But he'll do other things like staring the way he is now. Last week he sent me a "funny" prank email where I expected to see a puppy dancing with a unicorn on a rainbow flash across my computer screen when out pops a screeching demon. I almost jumped out of your own skin. Before that, he sent me a Facebook super-poke that said he wanted to seduce me. I almost threw up at that one. I'm tempted to tell Edward about him but I know he will overreact. I figure if I just ignore Creepy James, he'll stop.

Back at the house, Edward is giving me one of his delicious shoulder massages.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention," he says, "My band is playing tonight. My buddy Laurent set it up at the last minute. Why don't you come and watch?" he asks.

Laurent is the bass player in Stoker, the band Edward put together his freshman year. The line up changed a couple of times since some members graduated last year. Laurent is a new addition who is a very talented musician with lots of local connections.

"I don't think I have much work to do tonight. So yeah, that's sounds like fun," I reply. I've only seen Stoker in rehearsals, so I'm excited to watch them play in front of a crowd. I'm also hoping it takes my mind off of worrying about meeting Edward's parents tomorrow.

The Salt Hill Pub is a fun little Irish bar and grill just a short drive away from campus. They often have live music and a friendly crowd of people enjoying their lager and standard pub grub fare. There's already a pretty big crowd—mostly students—gathering when I arrive with the other housemates. Edward went ahead earlier so he and his buddies could set up.

Stoker takes the stage and people start cheering. I had no idea they had a following. It's all I can do not to go giddy and start screaming like an imbecile. I've never been one for the whole "fangirl" thing, being a book nerd, but seeing my man on stage singing so passionately and being an overall amazing rock god frankly gave me chills. I couldn't really get my head around the fact that someone like me actually had a very cool boyfriend.

_Heh heh, I'm with the band. Actually the lead singer/guitarist is my boyfriend. That makes me lead girlfriend._

There are people standing up near the stage bouncing around to the music. For a klutz like me, all that dancing and jumping around is a recipe for disaster. So I take a seat at a little round table that's close but slightly off to the side. The rest of the housemates are walking around mingling and hanging out with various friends they know from school. I'm in a better mood than I was earlier but I'm not really up for socializing. I'd rather watch my hottie anyway.

I'm in my own little world when someone approaches me. She's a beautiful, leggy blonde with gorgeous sea blue eyes—a "glamazon." Her hair is long and wavy, and slightly messy, like she's been at the beach all day. She's wearing a beautifully beat up denim jacket over a skin tight t-shirt and a microscopic leather mini-skirt. Her legs go on for miles, long and milky white. I notice she's wearing a Stoker button on her lapel.

_Jesus, even his groupies are fresh off the runway._

"Is this seat taken?" she purrs.

_No but I hope you don't mind if I break it over your gorgeous head first._

"Go ahead," I answer, trying to be nonchalant.

She sits down and eyes the stage dreamily.

"Isn't he gorgeous?" she breathes, looking up at Edward.

_Excuse me, who the fuck are you?_

"Yeah, I'd say Edward is pretty hot. But then again, I am biased," I reply with a smirk.

"Oh, so am I! Edward and I are very intimately acquainted," she says with a sly smile and raised eyebrow.

_I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. I was too busy ripping all your hair out._

Just as I'm about to indulge my desire to render her bald with my bare hands, Alice and Rosalie appear out of thin air. I silently thank God for Alice's amazing spidey sense.

"Oh, it's _you,_" Rosalie says accusingly, the words dripping out like acid. Her face is screwed up like someone just ripped a fart right under her nose.

"Tanya, what a 'surprise,'" Alice says sarcastically.

She looks at both of them and laughs.

"Oh Alice, Rosalie, you guys are such cute little characters," she says with clear condescension.

She turns to me and gives me a smile that's both vicious and artificially sweet.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Tanya Denali, Edward's old friend from Chicago, well I guess you can say 'very close friend,'" she says, making her insinuation as subtle as a bear in a china shop.

_Bitch, I will cut you!_

"I drove up from Yale so I can see his parents when they come through town tomorrow," she adds, putting extra emphasis on the word _"Yaaallle,"_ rubbing in the fact that it's a higher ranked school than Dartmouth.

"Hi, I'm Bella Swan," I reply plainly, not in the mood for her stupid pissing contest.

"Bella is Edward's girlfriend, Tanya," Alice says for me, trying to put Tanya in her stupid obnoxious place. "She's also our housemate," she adds.

"Oh, girlfriend, huh? I didn't know Edward did the 'girlfriend thing.' Surely you guys aren't exclusive?" she asks rudely. "He does have such a short attention span, at least one particular part of him does," she adds with an icy laugh.

My face is turning beet red from anger.

"I need to get some air," I say as I suddenly get out of my chair and walk through the thick crowd. I find the door and rush out.

I bump into Jasper. He notices my upset face immediately, having a natural affinity for counseling people and sensing their emotions. I'm glad to see him; Jasper had a way with words that always cheered me up. I love his funny Texan accent and crazy southern expressions.

"Bella, sweetheart, why the long face? Not to talk out of turn, but you look like you've been rode hard and put up wet. I'm surprised you're not inside making googly eyes at your man with those pretty brown peepers of yours," he jokes with a smile.

I explain the uncomfortable situation I was just in with Glamazon.

"Aw shit Bella. Tanya's all big hat and no cattle. She loves to talk about how great she is but she doesn't impress anybody but herself. Don't believe for a minute that Edward falls for any of it. Her attention is about as welcome as a skunk at a lawn party," he assures me in his slow drawl.

I can't help but smile.

"Come on Bella, let's go back inside," he urges me.

"I don't know Jasper, I can't really handle listening to Tanya," I reply.

"There's something you don't want to miss. Trust me. I'm not supposed to say, but Edward has a surprise for you. Don't you want to find out what it is?" he asks with a sly grin.

"That _is_ really tempting, it's just that I don't want to get upset again. But if Edward went to any trouble for me, I wouldn't want to spoil it. I guess you're right, Jasper. Thanks for talking to me and making me smile," I say as he gives me a warm hug.

"Now, enough arguing with me. Time to paint your butt white and run with the antelope," he says, grabbing my hand and leading me back inside back to the small table where Alice is waving us over.

I instantly recognize the music playing. It's the lullaby Edward hums to me every night. He's sitting at his keyboard now, my favorite melody coming from the keys as his graceful long fingers dance on them.

All the stress and sadness over meeting his parents and listening to Tanya just falls away from me like light feathers blown in the breeze. I'm overwhelmed by this poignant gesture. I didn't know he'd written the music to my lullaby himself. My knees turn to jelly and I have to sit down. He spots me in the crowd and gives me that crooked smile.

And then I hear him sing, his voice soft and rich. The words touch my very soul.

_Bella Sweetness sneaks in softly  
with chocolate eyes and candy kisses  
takes the void and leaves me wishes  
warms my soul and cools my hate  
curses the past and blesses fate  
my every spoken promise and silent vow  
for Bella Sweetness, you are my life now_

The crowd applauds and Edward thanks them. Alice hands me a tissue without even looking at me. I dab the tears in my eyes.

"That's for my girl. I learn a lot from her, like how Cupid's arrow is shaped like a softball," he says, laughing at our new little private joke.

_Dude you are getting some major play tonight._

My happy warm fuzzy moment is interrupted by Glamazon.

"So I thought I'd just crash at your place," Tanya tells Alice, oblivious to the fact that she's inviting herself over regardless of how rude it is.

"I'm meeting Edward's parents for brunch tomorrow and then driving back to New Haven," she adds.

_Ugh don't tell me I have to have brunch with Edward's parents _and_ this beeyotch. Fan-fucking-tastic._

I'm finally alone with Edward in his car on the way home from the pub. I feel conflicted. On the one hand hearing the song he wrote for me made me so unbelievably happy and in love with him. On the other hand, this whole Tanya disaster has really upset me. I decide to try to get some answers.

"Edward, why didn't you tell me Tanya was going to be here?"

"Bella, I would've told you if I knew myself," he says. "My mom probably mentioned it to her mom. That's all it takes. I never invite Tanya up here, she just shows up. I'm sure she saw the details about tonight's show on my MySpace page where I always post that kind of stuff," he explains, sounding irritated.

"Oh, I misunderstood. I'm sorry I doubted you," I say, regretting even bringing it up.

"Don't apologize, love," he says as he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "I can imagine how it must've looked from your point of view," he adds before kissing my palm.

I look at his handsome profile as he concentrates on driving. He's got his usual scruffy five o'clock shadow but his crazy hair is covered by his favorite black wool beanie. I can't help but feel the same butterflies I had inside me the first time I saw him.

_It's hard to be bummed about anything when you've got this to go home with._

By the time we get back, the other housemates and Tanya are already there hanging out in the living room. Tanya immediately tries to descend on Edward like a plague of locusts.

"Edward, I've been waiting all night to hang out with you!" she coos in a high pitched whine. "Let's sit on the couch and catch up," she says with an exaggerated pout.

Before she has the chance to sink her claws into him, Rosalie and Alice cut her off.

"Tanya, come upstairs, let me show you my new Ferragamos, I know we're the same size," Rosalie says in a very smarmy, sweet voice.

"Oh yes, Tanya, you simply must see the off-the-rack Galliano camisole I snatched up the last time I was in New York," Alices gushes with fake enthusiasm.

"Um, OK, but…I wanted to talk to…" she mutters, not able to finish.

They each grab one of her arms and practically drag her upstairs. Alice turns and winks at me.

_My friends freaking rock._

Edward and I quietly pad into my room where I shut the door and check the deadbolt three times. I grab him by the shirt and give him the longest, juiciest kiss I can manage.

"That's for writing me a song," I whisper in a husky voice. "And so's this," I say with a wink as I pull down his zipper and kneel in front of him.

"Bella…I should write you an entire CD…" he mutters with a sigh.

We sleep in the next morning and before I know it, it's time to get dressed and leave. I try my best to keep calm but it's not easy. I put on the outfit I bought especially for the occasion—a pretty sky blue cardigan with little pearl buttons that go all the way to the top. It's snug but not tight. I pair the sweater with gray tweed pants and my black flats. I arrange my hair into a loose bun and put on some dainty pearl earrings that used to belong to my mom.

Edward softly knocks on my door and lets me know we should get going.

"Bella you look so beautiful," he tells me before kissing my forehead.

"Thank you my love," I say with a smile.

"Don't be nervous, OK? My parents are really nice and I know they're going to love you," he says, stroking my cheek. "Come on, we're going to be late," he urges gently as he leads me out of the room.

Edward and I ride over to the restaurant in his car while Tanya drives her own car—a beautiful crisp white BMW convertible. Earlier, he insisted we ride separately since he didn't know how much time he'd be spending with his parents and he "would hate delay Tanya's return to New Haven," he said, trying to sound polite.

The restaurant is a very tastefully decorated "upscale" dining establishment with crisp linens and complicated place settings. Edward looks around and sees his parents already seated. Tanya is there too.

_Rats, her car didn't go off a cliff like I'd hoped it would._

I look over and see the best looking older couple I've ever laid eyes on.

Dr. Cullen almost makes me forget that I'm standing next to the love of my life and man of my dreams. _Almost._ He has thick blond hair combed back, and I recognize the square chin and angular jaw as the same features I see in Edward. Mrs. Cullen is simply stunning for a woman with a twenty year old son. She has long hair that's the same beautiful bronze color as Edward's. Her eyes are bright and youthful, belying her age.

They stand up to greet us. Edward introduces everyone and they both greet me warmly. Dr. Cullen's deep voice and smile nearly curls my toes.

_The hottie does not fall far from the tree._

Mrs. Cullen looks into my eyes and smiles warmly.

"Bella, it is such a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for joining us, I'm glad you could make it," she says graciously.

"I'm very happy to meet you and appreciate your invitation," I reply with a smile.

We shuffle around to find our seats. Tanya is absurdly rude and takes the seat between Edward and me.

_It's just one meal with this biznitch, that's all._

We chat for a while, perusing the menu to decide on what to order. Edward's parents ask me about school, my family, and my interests. Tanya chuckles when I mention Forks and Charlie, the town sheriff.

"How provincial!" she exclaims. "Is there running water and electricity?" she asks with a venomous laugh. "That reminds me, Mother wants me to join her women's league board to help the poor…" she says, her insinuation obvious. She even makes a point to show me which silverware to use "in case you've never used it before," she says snidely.

Tanya continues to dominate the conversation and takes any opportunity she can to cut me down. As hard as I try, it does begin to wear on me. Then she tries a different tactic.

"Edward, does Bella know all our cute little stories? How you were my escort for my debutante ball? You looked so handsome in your tux," she gushes.

I can't help but start feeling very small. I don't come from money. Everyone in my family is blue color stock and I'm one of the few to go to college. There are no family trusts, no large estates, no summer homes, no Ivy League legacies. It's just me and Charlie and our tiny existence in our tiny town.

_I must be out of my mind thinking Edward's parents would ever approve of me. _

With each comment Tanya makes, I sink lower and lower, realizing that her words may be harsh, but there is some truth to them. Edward and I live in different worlds. I feel my smile fade more and more until my face begins to fall entirely.

"The endive salad is to die for," Tanya declares.

"But not as delicious as Edward is in the sack," she whispers lecherously into my ear. "Tell me he's given you a taste, Bella," she taunts.

_Did she just tell me she slept with my boyfriend? That's it, I can't listen to any more of this._

I excuse myself from the table, not really able to contain how upset I've become.

"Oh, let me join you Bella, I really do need to powder my nose," Esme says before I have the chance to leave. "You don't mind, do you?" she asks sweetly.

"No, of course not," I say politely, barely containing my tears at this point.

The ladies room is one of those really elegant spaces, with a separate "lounge" type of room with richly upholstered comfortable love seats and a settee for relaxing on.

I walk through the lounge and further down to the room with the stalls. I lock myself in one so I can grab some toilet tissue and softly cry until I can calm myself. After a few minutes, I exit the stall and wash my face at one of the fancy marble wash basins. I inspect myself in the mirror.

_Crap, my face looks like hamburger. I can't believe the nightmare this has turned out to be._

Esme is sitting on one of the love seats, and smiles sweetly up at me when I approach her.

"Sit with me for a moment, won't you?" she beckons gently.

I smile and lower myself stiffly onto the settee across from her. Esme takes out a small compact of foundation.

"Bella, I would love to help you freshen up. I think we're the same skin tone, do you mind?" she asks, holding up her compact to offer me a little assistance to cover up how blotchy my face looks right now.

"No, I don't mind. That's very kind of you," I reply with a weak smile.

_Great, I'm a makeover charity case now. Could this get any worse?_

She scoots herself within reaching distance of my face while I lean forward. She applies the powder onto a cosmetic sponge and starts to gently dab it onto my cheeks.

"It is pleasant to see Tanya today even though it wasn't our idea to invite her to join us," she says diplomatically.

"I've known Tanya's mother, Sasha, for years. She's my bridge club partner as well as someone I see quite often in other various social circles," she explains.

"You see, Sasha and I met in college when we were assigned to be roommates. At the time, she was already seriously dating an upperclassman with whom I was not acquainted with. After a time, this friendly gentleman would run into me unexpectedly all around campus—buying me coffee, walking me to class. He seemed to call for visits just as much when Sasha wasn't there as when she was," she tells me with a reminiscent smile.

"Over time I realized I was developing serious feelings for this man. I honestly did not set out for that to happen; in fact it was the furthest thing from my mind. I had no designs to tempt him away from my friend because at the time I was far too shy and uncomfortable in my own skin to even contemplate such a thing. But I came to find out that he'd been unhappy for some time, and meeting me helped him to be certain that their relationship had no future," she reveals.

"When he ended it with Sasha, she was devastated. I insisted that a 'cooling off period' was necessary out of respect for her feelings and I distanced myself from the man who so badly wanted to be with me. I relented eventually, and the hurt it caused Sasha was very deep. She didn't speak to me for some time. It was only after she met and married Tanya's father that we began to re-establish our friendship, but the damage was done. There was a cool distance between us that remains to this day," she explains.

"What happened to the man who fell in love with you?" I ask curiously.

Esme let out a light laugh.

"Bella, he's sitting at our table in the next room. He became my husband and Edward's father," she answers warmly. "Carlisle is the man who pursued me despite the awkward circumstances in which we met," she reveals.

"In time I realized that Sasha really only made amends so that she could still play some role, however small, in Carlisle's life," she tells me candidly. "Even if the attention she gave him was unwelcome and consistently, but politely, ignored," she adds.

"Eventually, my relationship with Sasha turned into some sort of bizarre competition. When I became pregnant with Edward, she suddenly announced her own happy news just a few months later. If we moved to a bigger home, so did Sasha and her family. If we vacationed in St. Tropez one year, she and her husband would go the next.

"So as Tanya and Edward grew up, Sasha made no secret of her attempts to play match maker. It was obvious that she encouraged Tanya to seek Edward's attention no matter what. I know my son, and I've always known how unsuited they are for each other. Edward was never unkind to her, as they've been friends since they were just little children. But he's never responded to her advances," she assures me.

"I know," I reply. "He's already told me he's never had feelings for her," I say.

"And you should have faith that he never will, dear," she says with a smile.

She puts her compact away.

"There, that's better," she says, examining her work on my face.

"Thank you," I reply politely.

"Bella, when Edward told me he'd met a young lady he'd become very fond of, I already knew he was in love before he even breathed a word of it to me. My son has always had a rather serious temperament. Even as a boy he walked around as if he carried the weight of the world on his little shoulders. As he got older and entered adulthood, that burden only seemed to get heavier and heavier.

"Then after he'd left for Dartmouth this year, I noticed he sounded different when we spoke on the phone. There was a lightness to his mood that I hadn't seen in so long. He sounded genuinely content.

"And so when he told me about you, I assumed that you must be some kind of dynamo or a force of nature in order to have that kind of effect on Edward. I thought surely that Tanya couldn't possibly pose a threat to such a person.

"But in meeting you today, I realize how foolish I'd been. I see so much of my younger self in you—shy, unassuming, and unaware of the spell she casts. Carlisle and Edward, and men like them, they aren't taken in by a dynamo. They fall in love with women who settle into their hearts unexpectedly, not like a force of nature, but like a soft summer rain," she explains with a smile.

"Bella, I don't want you to feel upset or hurt over Tanya and her rude behavior. There's no way she could possibly hold a candle to you," she tells me sweetly.

"I also want to thank you for bringing about the wonderful change in my son. I see the joy he has in his eyes when he looks at you. I recognize it as the same joy I saw in Carlisle all those years ago—that I still see today. I'm certain that when you get to be my age, you'll continue to see that joy in Edward's eyes as well," she says as she smiles brightly.

I blush at the idea of growing old with Edward. I hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Mrs. Cullen, I can't thank you enough for talking with me," I say, almost ready to start crying again. "I feel a lot better now," I say with relief.

"Please, Bella, call me Esme," she insists.

"OK. Thank you Esme," I reply.

Just then I hear Vivaldi's _La Primavera_ play softly from Esme's purse. I quickly realize that it's her cell phone ringing.

"Hello?" she answers. "Edward, it's not appropriate for you to call me while I'm in the ladies room, and during a meal, no less," she chides before listening to his response. "In that case, well, it's especially inappropriate for you to call me while I'm in the ladies room so that you can pester Bella. She will speak with you at her own leisure. Really, did I raise you to be so forward?" she says in marked annoyance.

She hangs up the call and puts her phone back in her purse. She looks at me and smiles sweetly.

"If the Cullen men have one flaw, it's their inability to understand and respect boundaries. It's mainly due to their possessive nature," she explains. "But I'm sure you've become aware of that already," she adds with a knowing wink.

I laugh and nod my head.

"Do you feel up to returning to our table now, dear?" she asks.

"I think so, yes," I reply.

We leave the room together, but not before Esme gives me a warm hug with several pats on the back.

_I think I just became friends with one of the kindest people I've ever met. The fact that she's Edward's mom is just the icing on the cake._

Edward is pacing outside the ladies room when Esme and I come out. He looks agitated and worried.

"Mom, may Bella and I please have a moment alone?" he asks Esme.

"Of course, Edward," she says, giving my arm a pat and returning to the dining room.

"Bella, I'm so sorry for the way Tanya acted. I insisted she leave and she's already driving back to Connecticut. Please don't be upset," he says, gently clasping my hand in his.

"I'm OK. Your mom cheered me up a lot in the ladies room, actually," I say, smiling weakly.

"Good, I'm glad. My mom is good at that—making people happy, just like you are," he says, kissing my hand.

"Edward, did you sleep with Tanya?" I ask boldly.

He just stares at me, and then bursts out laughing.

"You're not seriously asking me that, are you? Bella, I'd sooner chew my own arm off than go to bed with Tanya. She and her mom are insufferable. Tanya's been trying to get me to date her for years. I only took her to the stupid debutante thing because my mom forced me and in exchange, I made her buy me a new piano keyboard," he explains.

"She's a year behind me in school and almost followed me to Dartmouth. I told my mom that if she actually enrolled, I'd move back home and go to junior college in Chicago. I think that really scared my mom because somehow she managed to talk Tanya's parents out of sending her here," he adds.

He wraps his arms around me and gives me a soft kiss. I look into his brilliant green eyes and smile.

"Bella, I hate to insult you by even comparing you to Tanya, but if I had to, you'd be cavier and she'd be Chicken of the Sea," he jokes.

"Come on, let's finish lunch and enjoy some real conversation with my parents," he says as we walk hand in hand, smiling at each other.

_It's good to be the lead girlfriend._


	11. Panic! At the House on Meyer Lane

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter 11: Panic! At the House on Meyer Lane**

I do not own Twilight, just a weird imagination.

"_Ain't no other man can stand up next to you  
Ain't no other man on the planet does what you do  
You're the kinda guy a girl finds in a blue moon  
You got soul, you got class  
You got style with your bad ass  
Ain't no other man its true  
Ain't no other man but you"_

—Christina Aguilera, "Ain't No Other Man"

"Edward, I have a really bad feeling about this," I say with a laugh even though I'm partially serious.

"Come on Bella, I put about a hundred pillows down on the floor. Even you can avoid injury with that much padding," he jokes.

We're at the house, standing at the landing of the staircase and looking down to the bottom where Edward has in fact assembled more pillows than I can count. It's Saturday night and we've had a few beers. OK, more than a few. Obviously the alcohol is clouding our better judgment.

"Let's do this thing," I say, trying to psych myself up.

Edward turns around. I jump and put my arms around his neck while he grabs my legs. He's carrying me piggy back style.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah, say a prayer," I joke.

_Holy crap, I don't wanna die._

He leans on the wide banister with me clinging to him for dear life. He lifts his feet up and we slide the whole way down. I also shriek the whole way down.

"See, that was fun. And you're still in one piece," he jokes. "Bella? You can let go now. I can't really breathe," he says, laughing.

"I'm sorry, I still have my eyes closed," I say as I giggle uncontrollably. I start kissing and nibbling his neck. "I think I'll stay where I am and kiss my favorite boyfriend," I say teasingly.

"Well, as long as I'm your favorite," he answers with a laugh. "Unhand me woman, so that I may ravish you!" he says in a ridiculous deep voice.

I laugh more as he purposely drops me onto the mountain of pillows and pounces on top of me and grunts like a caveman.

_Me Bella, you Sexward!_

We kiss and grope each other for a few minutes. Edward starts to talk while I resume my neck kissing.

"So, what should we do now?" he asks.

"Hmm, I have a few ideas," I purr suggestively as I nibble on his earlobe, inhaling that dizzying scent of his.

"Video games?" he says with a smirk.

_Wise ass._

"You mean you play video games while I sit next to you and read a book?" I ask rhetorically.

"Bake cookies?" he snickers.

"I have something else I'd like you to eat," I reply unabashedly.

"My, oh my, Miss Swan, what sort of man do you take me for?" he asks in feigned shock.

"Uh, a horny one?" I answer, running my hand up and down his chest. I start unbuttoning his shirt. I kiss his delicious collarbone.

"Curse you, wanton wench and your beguiling bosoms!" he jokes in an absurd British accent, lifting me up and carrying me over his shoulder. I can't stop laughing.

"Wait! Rosalie will kill us if we leave all her throw pillows and couch cushions on the floor," I say, suddenly serious.

"No, she'll kill us when I tell her we made out on them," he says flippantly.

He drops me on his bed and lies down next to me. We hold hands.

"Edward?" I say, gearing myself up to ask him something.

"Hmm?" he says back.

"Should we maybe, you know, try uh, having sex?" I ask, feeling sheepish.

_Well that was smooth._

"We've been together for a few months now, and we're happy. Plus I'm really curious, to be honest," I admit.

_Curiously horny, that is._

Edward turns and faces me, his expression rather serious.

"Bella, I think we should wait a bit longer," he says. "It's not that I don't want to, because I very much do, but…" his voice trails off.

"But what?" I ask, perplexed.

"I'm waiting for the right moment—you know, not because we're drunk or horny. I want it to be memorable for you and for me too," he says.

I trace the line of his jaw with my fingertip, lost in my thoughts.

"Maybe we can go away somewhere, like to Boston or New York?" he asks.

"Actually, I've already kind of imagined how it would be," I admit, feeling sheepish again. "If I had to pick a place for us to be together for the first time, honestly, I'd pick my bedroom. I know it sounds uninspired, but it's not. The first day we met we talked there, with you sitting on my bed driving me crazy. We kissed for the first time in my room. I dream about you all the time in that bed. If there was one very special spot for us, that room would be it," I explain softly, looking up into his eyes.

"Bella sweetness, how can I deny you anything? You know I can't—not when you aren't tempted in the slightest by the chance to take an exciting trip somewhere or stay at a nice hotel. Of all the places a person could choose from, you pick your own bed in your own little room," he says, smiling and shaking his head. "You consistently manage to come up with new and different ways for me to fall in love with you, over and over, did you know that?" he adds, smiling tenderly, his green eyes sparkling.

_Gah. I can't even respond to that, it's such a gigantic pile of awesomeness, so I won't._

He wraps those strong arms around me and gives me a long kiss that takes my breath away.

"Your bedroom it is then," he says with a wide grin.

"It'll be three months since our first kiss soon," I say, dropping a hint big enough to need its own zip code.

Edward's face becomes serious again. Actually committing to a date may have made the reality of it all too much for him.

"Bella, are you sure this is what you want?" he asks.

"Of course I'm sure. Why shouldn't we?" I ask back. "We love each other," I say, hoping he'll see that I'm not just being impatient, even though I am.

"I know that, but maybe we should wait until we get married," he says.

_Who in the what now?_

I can't do anything but make my eyes go all buggy. Speech is not possible at the moment.

"Bella, are you OK?" he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

"I…uh…did you use the words 'we' and 'get married' in the same sentence just now?" I ask back with true disbelief.

Edwards laughs. "Bella, I'm not proposing to you right this second. But I do think we're headed toward that direction," he says. "Can you imagine yourself with another man?" he asks.

The thought actually repulses me completely, to be honest.

"Absolutely not, you know that," I chide.

"Well, I have to admit I'd be a happy man if I never even looked at another woman again," he says, smiling at me. "That sounds to me like two people who should probably get married sooner or later," he adds, stroking my cheek.

My heart is beating a mile a minute. First he mentions something about getting married, and then he comes up with an entirely logical reason why discussing marriage isn't such a bad idea. But honestly, I still sometimes find it hard to believe that a guy like Edward would even be attracted to me. The fact that he loves me still makes my head spin and my stomach do flip flops.

All I can hear in my mind are the countless things my mother says to me about the perils of matrimony. _Marriage is all about compromise, usually at the expense of everything else that's important to you,_ was one of her favorites. My mom married and had me at a very young age. Come to think of it, she was my age. Her marriage to my dad was a huge mistake. They had rushed headlong into it before either one of them was ready. It wasn't long after I was born that my mom moved out with me and settled in Phoenix. I love my dad very much, but he didn't play all that big a role in my life until a couple of years ago. I was raised by a single mom and it was tough for her.

_This is way too big a step for us even to be contemplating. Way too big._

I just started college. I still have three and a half years to go. Edward wants to go to medical school. I don't even know where he's planning on applying. If we're getting married, obviously I have to move with him. How can I move somewhere if I don't know where it is I'm moving to? Where will I go to grad school? What if there's no good grad program where we go? Would I just end up not getting my PhD like I'd always planned on? What would I do for a living? Would Edward expect me to stay home and play house?

Married people have nice china and a mortgage. I eat off plastic plates I bought at Target and I don't even own a bicycle. Married people join wine tasting clubs and discuss their 401Ks and have babies.

_Have babies._

_Have babies._

_HAVE BABIES!_

_I think I might be experiencing a panic attack._

"Bella?" Edward says, trying to get my attention. "Bella, are you OK?" he asks, looking worried.

I sit bolt upright in the bed, feeling frantic.

_I just want to get laid, not sign my life away!_

"I don't have nice china and babies freak me out because I'm always afraid I'll drop them on their heads by accident!!!" I sputter as my mind goes completely haywire.

"Love, calm down. You're not making any sense," he says, trying to get me to lie back down.

"I can't move if I don't know where I'm going and I'm pretty sure clumsy people shouldn't even have children because that's a very valid safety issue right there," I babble incoherently.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Edward urges, "take a deep breath and slow down," he says in a soft voice, putting his arm around me.

"Obviously talking about marriage is making you nervous, and I don't mean for it to," he adds, stroking my hair.

"Edward, my parents…it was a disaster," I say dejectedly.

"Not every marriage is unhappy Bella. Some couples are really meant to be together, as corny as that may sound," he says, smiling.

I sigh as I begin to calm down and think more clearly.

"I know, it's just that…I'm not like Alice, I don't have that complete faith that things just work themselves out, that the future holds only good things," I say pessimistically.

"Bella, Alice is in a class all by herself. No one is a bigger believer in 'happily ever after' than she is, so don't judge yourself against her standard," he replies. "Of course it's hard to know how things will turn out and being skittish about big decisions isn't just normal, it's pretty practical," he adds with a smile. "But I will tell you one thing—nothing makes me more hopeful about my future than when I see you in it with me, that's all. I don't have any plans beyond that," he says before kissing my forehead.

_Phew. No babies were harmed during the making of this conversation._

"But I do think you should come to Chicago and live with me for the summer," he says, with complete nonchalance.

"Live together, um, Edward, that's…" I say, unable to finish as I feel my panic rising again.

Edward starts laughing and shaking his head.

"Bella, we already live together, you know that, right?" he asks, pointing out the obvious.

"But alone? Charlie would not go for that," I say with heavy skepticism.

"No, no, not alone. We'd stay with my parents. My house has a bunch of guest rooms and I know my parents wouldn't mind at all, in fact they'd be thrilled. My mom will be ecstatic to have another woman in the house to talk to," he says with a laugh.

"Oh, OK. Well, that sounds like fun actually. Maybe we could take a week here and there to visit my mom and Charlie?" I ask.

"Sure, whenever you want," he answers sweetly.

"Crap, Charlie!" I say, slapping my forehead. "You haven't even met my father. I can't spend the whole summer with a guy my dad doesn't even know, he'll go ballistic," I say worriedly.

"So, why don't I meet him?" Edward asks simply.

"Um, yeah, I guess that would be a good idea," I say meekly.

"What Bella?" he asks, sensing my apprehension.

"Nothing, it's just that…if you came to Forks, I'm not sure what you'd think of it. It's not a very interesting place. And my dad, he's…" I say unable to finish, feeling insecure.

"He's what? The father of the most amazing woman I know?" he asks playfully.

I smile a tiny bit.

"Charlie's a good guy, but he's not like your parents. He has a simple lifestyle—fishing, watching sports on TV, drinking cheap beer," I say.

"Bella, why would you think any of that would matter to me? It's _me_ who needs to impress _him_! I'm the one dating his daughter and if he's half the father he seems to be, I better do a damn good job proving that I'm worthy. Trust me; _that _is my only concern about meeting your dad," he says with conviction.

_God, Bella. There's nothing wrong with you that a little Prozac and a polo mallet can't cure.*_

"So, can we bring this conversation back to the original subject?" I ask with a sly little smirk. "Because honestly, if I have to wait until we're married, _if _we get married, number one, I may combust by then," I say, laughing. "And secondly, if I have to worry about my wedding _and_ losing my virginity both at the same time, I'm pretty sure I'll require hospitalization, and I'd rather not spend my wedding night in a psych ward," I joke.

Edward laughs at my self-effacing humor. We lie back down as he puts his arms around me and rests his hand on my hip.

"Like I said, Bella, how can I say no to you?" he asks before kissing me.

It's Saturday morning and I wake up after sleeping fitfully. Edward and I haven't been spending all that much time together because school has been so hectic. He isn't here with me because he's holed up at the lab again working on another project. All the upper-level biology and chemistry courses he's taking have been brutal in terms of workload. I myself am buried in papers to write.

The date that marked the three months since our first kiss had come and gone. School had made it impossible for us to spend all that much quality time together, and even when we were alone, stress and fatigue made it impossible for us to do much else besides watch movies before I dozed off.

I have my morning coffee and some toast before heading back to my room to work on one of the many assignments that are due shortly. I power up my laptop and check my email.

_More weird email from Creepy James. Puke._

I delete the email without even opening it. I've already removed him from my Facebook friend's list and even changed my privacy settings so that he's blocked from seeing anything I post, even if it's on other people's pages. Last week there was a piece of paper in my backpack that just said the words "Hi Bella" in handwriting I didn't recognize. I didn't see him actually put it in my bag, but I know it must have been him. He still stares at me in class, his blue eyes piercing into me.

Just as the caffeine kicks in and I start putting some coherent thoughts together for my schoolwork, Alice comes into my room, bouncing happily.

"Bella, power off that laptop. You need some downtime," she says, urging me on.

"Alice, I have tons of work to do," I reply, resisting the offer.

"Listen, I love you Bella, but you look like shit. You are so stressed out, it's not even funny. Take the time to give yourself a break and when you go back to your work, you'll be that much more energized. Come on, time for a little 'retail therapy,'" she insists.

_Ack. There is nothing therapeutic about shopping with you Alice! It's torture._

Seeing the look on my face, Alice already knows I'm still not up for it.

"Alright, what if you go to the bookstore and the cooking gadget store and all the other places you like, while Rosalie and I shop for clothes? Please, Bella? I even booked spa time for us this afternoon—a little hot stone massage, a little aromatherapy body wrap—you'll feel like a brand new person. Don't argue because it's my treat and it's already paid for," she says, clearly not backing down.

"OK, Alice, you win!" I say with an exasperated laugh. "You might be little but you are not easy to ignore," I joke.

I hate to admit it, but I am really glad I took Alice up on her offer. The hot stone massage I'm having right now is nothing short of sheer bliss. I'm so relaxed and comfortable, I feel like I could float away.

After getting massaged, scrubbed and wrapped, I feel completely refreshed and happy.

"Alice, that was so nice of you. Today was such a cool treat for me. Thanks so much," I say, feeling very grateful. I try to hug her but she's furiously texting someone on her Blackberry. This is the third or fourth time I've noticed her doing it.

"Alice, who is it you keep texting?" I ask, curiously.

"Oh, it's just Jasper driving me nuts all day. Hopefully he quits bugging me," she says shaking her head and sighing.

We're almost back at the house when Rosalie just pulls over in front of the house instead of parking.

"Bella, we're meeting Jasper and Emmett at a friend's place. You go on inside so you can work in peace and quiet; we'll be back later," Alice says, somewhat impatiently.

I get out of the car and head for the house when Rosalie rolls down her window.

"Hey Bella," she calls as I approach her, "Edward is a really lucky guy," she says cryptically. She drives off without another word.

_OK, Rosalie said something nice to me. Something is extremely fishy._

I get out my keys to unlock the front door when I see there's a note on it with my name on the front. I unfold it and read what it says.

_This is the story of when Bella met Edward.  
Please come inside and look on the coffee table._

_Alice, you sneaky little munchkin!_

I recognize Edward's beautiful cursive handwriting and smile as my curiosity is piqued. I go inside and see another note on the coffee table. This one is next to a softball. I open the note and read it silently.

_It wasn't fate that brought them together. It was a softball.  
Please look in the freezer._

My smile broadens as I walk into the kitchen and open the freezer. Inside is another note on top of an ice pack.

_Not even the coldest ice could cool the passion they felt almost instantly.  
Please look in the downstairs medicine cabinet._

I'm becoming more and more excited as I go inside the bathroom and find the next clue. This note is next to a box of smelling salts.

_After a rough start, they came to their senses._

_Please look on the bookcase in the living room._

I peek at the shelves and see a note on the one all the way at the bottom. It's next to a little chocolate kiss.

_It started with a punch in the nose and ended with the sweetest kiss.  
Please look on the banister at the foot of the stairs._

On the very end of the railing where the wood forms a big circular scroll sits another note. I grab it before noticing what's next to it.

_Soon they learned that Ethiopian food is only improved when followed by 'dessert.'  
Please look on the very top stoop._

I look back atthe railing and let out a loud laugh. It's a little plastic wind-up toy—a cherry pie with legs. I quickly hop up the stairs to find my next clue. It's a postcard with a picture of Bettie Page on it.

_They went to Montréal and Bella went shopping for cooking items, but the real spice was in their hotel room.  
Please come to your bedroom door._

There's a bouquet of flowers on the floor in front of my door. I recognize it as the same arrangement Edward gave me for our first date. I lean over to pick them up and when I stand up again, there he is, smiling at me from behind my partially open door. I'm grinning from ear to ear and just about to burst at the seams.

"Hi Bella, hope you don't mind that I'm in your room," he says with that delicious crooked smile. "Wait, wait, don't come in yet," he says, stopping me from walking in. "Cover your eyes," he says, taking my purse and flowers from me to free my hands.

He leads me by the shoulders while I have my hands over my face and try not to trip. I feel him gently pull my hand away just like he'd done that first day I came to Dartmouth. He's standing in front of me, just as handsome as the day I first laid eyes on him. Only now I had the depth of my love for him to enhance the feeling it gave me to look at him. He's wearing a black suit and skinny black tie. As usual, those eyes and smoldering gaze completely melt my insides. He looks so unbelievably good.

_Oh please tell me tonight's the night._

I realize that I'm very under-dressed for the occasion.

"Edward, I'm not wearing anything fancy," I say, feeling pretty mismatched with him in my jeans and long sleeved t-shirt.

"Bella, you are just as beautiful in your sweats as you are in a dress," he says, kissing my hand.

"So, not as much work to do in the lab as you thought, huh?" I ask, giving him the side-eye.

"Yeah, I had an extra few minutes to set up a surprise for you," he says with a wink.

"And Alice, Rosalie—they were your accomplices in this?" I ask with mock accusation.

"Hey when you have a friend as nosy as Alice, you may as well enlist her help because she'll know all about your plans anyway," he reasons.

"Once again Cullen, well played," I say, stroking his stubbly cheek.

I finally give myself the chance to look around the room. There are candles everywhere. I notice that my desk is missing and in its place is a little round table with linens and flowers on it, along with two place settings.

And then my jaw drops.

_How in the…_

There, in the corner, where my dresser usually stands, is a claw foot bath tub.

"Edward!" I gasp in utter disbelief. I can't stop shaking my head and wonder if I'm seeing things.

"How did you get that in here?!?" I ask, aghast.

"Well, I had a lot of help. We had to take your door off its hinges and then put it back on again," he explains with a smile. "I'm sorry it's not as big as the tub in Montréal, but when I called the hotel, they wouldn't sell it to me. Plus I don't think it would've fit in here anyway," he adds with a laugh.

"You are amazing. You, Edward Cullen, dazzle me," I say, giving him a hug and a kiss.

"The feeling is mutual, Bella Swan," he replies, kissing my hand again. "Can I help you into your bath?" he asks, stroking my cheek.

"I would love that," I reply, kissing him before undressing.

Edward takes off his jacket and tie before helping me into my delicious smelling bath. Just like last time, he rolls up his sleeves and sweetly washes and massages my feet. But this time, his hands trail up and down my legs slowly and with the lightest touch. He soaps my shoulders and the back of my neck, running his hands down my back. He washes one collarbone, then the other. His fingertips brush downward and lightly touch my breasts. I close my eyes and sigh.

I stand up and Edward wraps a big soft towel around me. He picks me up in his arms and I put my arms around his neck.

"Bella sweetness, I want to try something…more," he says with a coy smile before lowering his face to mine and giving me a long sweet kiss.

In my head I hear a choir burst into Handel's _Messiah._

_Hal-le-lu-jah!  
Hal-le-lu-jah!__  
Hal-le-lu-jah!  
Getting-laaaaid-a-lu-jah!_

I'm excited that I'm finally going to have sex with my boyfriend, but mixed up in the excitement is a tiny bit of fear of the unknown. But I love and trust Edward with all my heart and know he'll be patient and tender.

He lies me down on the bed and we sit facing each other. He's kissing me as I unbutton his shirt, sliding it off him. His hand is on the side of my face as his thumb gently strokes my cheek. I kiss his pouty bottom lip that I can never resist, then leave a trail of soft kisses all the way along his jaw, starting at his chin and ending by his ear. I nibble his earlobe playfully.

"I love you, Edward," I whisper.

"I love you, too, Bella," he whispers back.

I undo the button and zipper of his pants. He stands up for a minute and takes off the rest of his clothes. He lies down next to me and gently pulls away my towel. I'm overcome with the sudden desire to touch him everywhere. I love the way his bare skin feels next to mine. I trace every part I can, paying special attention to my favorite parts—his beautiful jaw, the little bump in nose, that lower lip. I run my hand over his broad shoulder, and then to his chest, lingering over that light patch of hair. I look up into his eyes.

"I can't imagine anyplace I'd rather be than right here, with you," I say in a soft voice.

"Bella, I don't know if I would've ever really lived a full life if I hadn't met you. I came to you a broken person and you made me whole," he says as he moves a lock of hair out of my face.

Our kisses grow more urgent now and our caresses become more eager. It still sends chills through me to feel him softly put his hands on my breasts. I let out a slow moan as he moves his head down and kisses me everywhere on my chest. I run my hand through that crazy bronze colored hair as he puts his mouth over my nipple. I gasp from the delicious feeling it gives me. I can feel his hand on my stomach as it inches lower and lower, teasing me. My hand grazes toward the line of hair on his groin until I wrap it around the length of him and stroke gently.

"Bella, you tempt me and entice me the way no other woman ever can," he murmurs, his breath hot against my breast.

He shifts his weight so that he's on top of me and cups his hand right where my backside meets my hip and gently moves my thigh over to his side, bending my leg at the knee. He does the same with my other leg.

"Bella," he says as he leans his arms on either side of me and strokes my face, "I want to be your first, but also your last. I love you more than my own life," he says softly.

"I love you too Edward, more than I can describe in words," I say, looking up at his beautiful, perfect face, my hands on his back.

He uses his hand to gingerly part my wet flesh and leans himself into me ever so gently.

"Bella, I've never been with a virgin before, but I know it's probably going to hurt you and I'm sorry," he says. "I'll try to be as gentle as I can," he says, kissing my forehead.

I smile and nod my head. "I know you will, love. Don't worry, I'm not scared," I say.

He pushes into me a little harder now and I can feel a slight sting between my legs as my body tries to accommodate him. Slowly he's using more and more pressure until he's finally inside me and the sting is now a painful burn. I close my eyes and take slow deep breaths while Edward cradles my face in his hands.

"I'm sorry Bella sweetness, I love you," he whispers.

He waits for a minute or two to give my body a chance to adjust. The pain is still there, but it's not as intense. Slowly he starts to move his hips back and forth. He's looking into my eyes so intently that I melt inside.

Now that the pain isn't bad enough to distract me, I can fully take in the experience. Having another person so close that they're literally inside me is overwhelming. The intense intimacy of it takes me by surprise, to be honest. My mind floods with emotion as I play back scenes from the last few months of my life—the most handsome man I'd ever seen holding my hand and an icepack to my face; smelling him for the first time; feeling a strong hand grab me out of harm's way; the night he scooped me up and kissed me for the first time; his face looking at me as he feeds me dinner on our first date; the way he protected me when I was in terrible danger; watching him sing a song he wrote just for me. All these moments have culminated in the one we're sharing right now and I can't contain how it makes me feel.

"Edward, I love you and I always will," I say in a small whisper, returning his gaze. I can feel my eyes begin to sting.

"God, Bella, I wish I knew how I'll ever make you as happy as you make me," he replies, his breathing turning ragged now. He kisses me up and down my neck and then on the mouth. I feel a moan pass through him as his lips are on mine.

I hold his face in my hands as his thrusts become more urgent and he moans louder and louder. I rock my hips against his, finding that it actually feels really good. Edward groans when I do that and closes his eyes. He bites his lip and lets his breath out in a slow hiss.

"Bella, my beautiful Bella…" he groans as he cums inside me, resting his forehead on mine, his brow moist with sweat. We lie there for a few minutes, our bodies entwined. We kiss each other's faces over and over. Edward notices that my eyes are wet.

"Bella, were you crying? What happened—was it very painful?" he asks, looking worried and guilty.

"No, I was crying because it was the very opposite of painful, my love," I reply with a smile from ear to ear.


	12. Jingle Bella

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter 12: Jingle Bella**

"_I do believe it's true  
That there are roads left in both of our shoes  
And if the silence takes you  
Then I hope it takes me too  
So brown eyes I hold you near  
Cause you're the only song I want to hear  
A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere  
Where soul meets body"_

—Death Cab for Cutie, "Soul Meets Body"

_Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We're making our final descent so I'll be turning on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign. We'll be landing in Seattle shortly…_

_God, I hate planes._

My thoughts are interrupted by a hand stroking my cheek.

"Not long now," Edward says, giving me a bright smile.

"Yeah, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing," I say with a nervous laugh.

"It's going to be fine, you'll see," he answers, clasping my hand and kissing it.

"Thanks. I love you, you know, Edward my darling," I say with a smile.

"I love you too, Bella sweetness," he replies, returning my smile.

"You make me so happy, Edward," I sigh.

_God, I'm so corny and lovesick, I'm even grossing myself out!_

I just couldn't resist the urge to be romantic and mushy. Life with Edward is nothing short of magical. I had the night of my life when we were together for the first time. I'd felt things emotionally and physically that I didn't know existed. I have a bond and a connection with him that I don't have with anyone else.

We've been enjoying our new form of intimacy _a lot._ Edward is an amazing lover. Our first few lovemaking sessions were very special but somewhat awkward since I really didn't know what I was doing, but he was always really sweet about it. For him it's a new experience as well, being that he'd never been in an actual relationship, and with a complete novice, no less. He is gentlemanly and kind, usually waiting for me to initiate. And I uh, initiate _frequently._ Sometimes I find myself looking for a reason, and often they're rather a stretch. I run through some of them in my mind.

_Aw, Edward, this bouquet of flowers is beautiful, let's have sex!_

_Hey, you look gorgeous in that sweater, let's have sex!_

_Darn, we're out of ketchup, let's have sex!_

_Oops, I'm bending over to pick up a pencil, let's have sex!_

I realize how ridiculous it is to need to look for reasons to go to bed with a man like Edward, but I do it anyway. I know he understands that it's just my insecurity to blame. I've also been fairly timid about changing things up, preferring the comforting surroundings of my own bed and bedroom.

The winter semester came to an end and finals were over. We're headed to Forks for the first half of our winter break to spend Christmas with Charlie. From there, we'll fly to Chicago to spend New Year's Eve with Carlisle and Esme. It's only fair to spend Christmas with my dad so he won't be all by himself. My mom is off visiting with Phil's family for the holidays, so I plan to see her sometime in the spring.

Of course, there's another reason why we're going to Forks together: Edward wants to introduce himself to my dad. I know I shouldn't be anxious over them meeting each other. Edward could charm the socks off of anybody. Although Charlie isn't a big talker, being a sheriff forces him to interact with all sorts of people from all walks of life, so he is an amiable fellow.

But when I compare my father and my boyfriend side by side, they are like night and day. Charlie spends most of his free time fishing. Edward's a vegetarian—I don't think he could even bring himself to _watch_ someone catch a fish. Being a police officer made my dad think in absolutes, neatly sorting his opinions into two distinct categories: right and wrong; legal and illegal; all or nothing. Edward couldn't be more opposite. Being fairly cerebral, everything has shades of gray to him. I cringe trying to imagine the two of them having any kind of ethical or moral debate.

"_What do you mean, you don't fish? How do you catch them if you don't fish for them?"_

"_Vampires, huh? Something's not right in your head, son."_

"_No Mr. Swan, vegetarians don't eat chicken. Chickens do count, actually."_

We collect the last of our luggage from the baggage carousel and walk toward the passenger pick-up area of the airport. Seeing my tense face, Edward grabs my hand.

"I like this—the two of us taking steps together to make our relationship more serious—literally and figuratively. I'm always here, right next to you, you know that right?" he says, giving me that perfect crooked smile.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you, love," I reply, smiling back.

Before I know it, my dad is waving at me to get my attention. I see him and give him a tight hug. I really missed him.

"Dad!! I'm so happy to see you. Gosh, I missed you!" I say as I give him a kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you too, Bells. The kitchen's grown cobwebs without you in it," he says, giving me a big smile. I turn to gesture toward Edward.

"Dad, this is Edward. Edward, this is my dad," I say as an introduction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Swan," Edward says as he gives my dad a firm handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Edward. Listen, I never got a chance to thank you, and I don't feel right about that," he says.

_I'm perplexed._

"I'm very grateful that you rescued my daughter when she was in a real jam, not once, but twice. First pulling her away from an oncoming car—I don't know how many times I've told her to watch where she is going when she's crossing the street. Then to help her when she was being hassled by those bums—I'm just real glad you were there, and it sounds like you handled the situation exactly like I would've. So, thanks for that, I'm glad she has someone looking after her—you probably noticed that Bella can find trouble no matter how hard she tries not to!" my dad explains.

"Mr. Swan, no need to thank me. I only did what anyone else would have," Edward replies modestly. "And yes, Bella is a danger magnet," he adds with a laugh.

_Great, now it's not just Papa Bear but Bearward too. I'm outnumbered! This isn't fair._

"Alright, enough going on and on about how much of a liability I am, I'm standing right here you know," I say, feeling slightly picked on. They both laugh.

The long drive home isn't much better. They're swapping stories now!

"Oh, and how could I forget," Charlie says, barely containing his laughter, "there was this one time I had to go over to the high school in the middle of the day because Bella had somehow managed to not only fall _into_ a trashcan, but get _stuck_ in it!" Charlie says with a howl.

"Dad!! Oh my God, this could not get more embarrassing!" I huff, utterly mortified.

Edward is laughing so hard, he's wiping tears from his eyes.

_Oh this is just fucking precious!_

"Mr. Swan, Mr. Swan," Edward urges to get my dad's attention, "I was walking through the house once, and I hear this muffled voice, as if it's coming from far away," he says,

_I am going to get you for this Edward Anthony Cullen, I swear._

"I go upstairs where it gets louder. Then I realize it's Bella saying 'Can someone help me, please?' and it's coming from the bathroom. I try to open the door but it's locked. When I ask her to open it, she tells me she can't reach it. When I ask why she says 'Because my foot is stuck in the toilet!' I had to take apart the doorknob to get to her and wrench her foot out." He explains, laughing. Now my dad is wiping tears from his eyes.

"I lost my balance shaving my leg over the toilet seat! It's a very common household mishap!" I snap, folding my arms and rolling my eyes.

"Bells, we're just teasing you," my dad says, trying to cool me off. "We're trading war stories, sweetie. You have to admit, it's not easy keeping up with you," he adds, eyeing me through the rear view mirror.

"I guess it isn't," I say, trying not to smile despite myself.

We're at the diner having supper since Charlie's fridge practically has dust bunnies rolling around in it. I decide I'll grocery shop in the morning for Christmas dinner.

"Edward, you should try the meatloaf, it's really good," my dad says, offering some friendly advice.

_Ack! We've only been a few hours! Does it have to start so soon?_

"Thank you, Mr. Swan, but I don't eat meat. I'm a vegetarian," Edward says politely.

"Oh," my dad replies.

_Shit, here it comes._

"Well, if you're a vegan, the stir-fry is good. If not, definitely go for the mac and cheese casserole. It's fantastic," he adds.

_If you're a vegan?!?_

_That's it?_

_If you're a vegan?!?_

_I lost sleep for a week just so you can say 'go for the mac and cheese'?!?!_

"Thanks Mr. Swan. Mac and cheese sounds good to me," Edward replies with a congenial smile.

"Charlie, how do you know what a vegan is?" I ask, so flabbergasted that my jaw is practically on the floor.

He gives me a slightly miffed look.

"Bells, it may be hard for you to believe, but I do use a computer now and then. I Googled it," he says proudly.

Our supper goes just as easy as anything. Charlie and Edward get on like a house on fire. I stop paying attention when they start talking football and all the stats and whatever it is people with penises love chatting about.

_I'm not sure if I even needed to show up for this trip. I could've just sent Edward here by himself._

As I get lost in my thoughts, a few things occur to me. I worried so much over how my dad and my boyfriend would get along. I very carefully examined how different they were from each other and foolishly thought that those differences could never be reconciled, and so they wouldn't get along. But I failed to realize that they had one big thing in common—something that made the differences completely irrelevant.

_They had me and they both loved me very much._

Soon after we're done, my dad leaves with his friend Billy to visit with him at Billy's house in La Push. He'll get a ride back home from Billy's nephew later tonight, so I'll be driving my old beat up-pick up back to the house with Edward.

As we're walking through the parking lot to my truck, we run into an old high school acquaintance of mine—Lauren Mallery. I can't exactly count her as a friend since she never seemed to like me, even though we belonged to the same large circle of friends.

I'm shocked to see that she's pushing a baby stroller.

"Bella? Is that you?" she says, calling over to me.

_Yes, it's me Lauren. I'm sure you think your eyes must be deceiving you because there's no way Bella Swan could possibly be holding hands with such a good looking guy. Well, suck on it, sister!_

"Oh, hey, Lauren. It's nice to see you," I say, trying to be friendly.

I introduce Lauren and Edward. She so conspicuously eyes him up and down that I have to suppress the urge to gouge her eyes out.

"So, are you here for winter break?" she asks.

"Yeah, for part of it anyway. We're staying until the day after Christmas then we're flying to Chicago to visit Edward's family for a while before heading back to school," I explain.

Just then the little sleeping bundle in her stroller starts stirring and making soft little sounds.

"This is Stephenie," Lauren says, gently picking up the baby from the stroller. "She's three months old. I got pregnant the last semester at Forks High but my family didn't really want anybody to know about it. My parents were trying to get me to put the baby up for adoption," she explains.

_Now I know why I didn't see you all summer._

"But when she was born and I held her for the first time, I just couldn't do it. There's something you feel when your baby is born that's different from any feeling you've had before. So, instead of going to UW, I'm staying in Forks with my parents and raising Steph with them," she adds, looking down at her baby with obvious affection.

I think about Lauren and her little baby and suddenly feel guilty. Normally, I'd look at a woman in her position and think "Oh God, how unfortunate, that really sucks," but the truth is, Lauren looked happy—probably happier than I've ever seen her. She didn't see this as a punishment or the end of her dreams. I look at little Steph and can't help but smile at her cute chubby cheeks.

"Here, would you like to hold her?" Lauren asks me.

"Uh, I don't know Lauren, you know I'm pretty clumsy," I say, genuinely terrified.

"Oh Bella, I thought for sure I would break her the first few times I held her. Trust me, it's a lot easier than it looks," Lauren says, trying to reassure me. She holds Steph out to me.

_Don't drop the baby. Don't drop the baby. Do NOT drop the baby!_

I very gingerly take the baby from Lauren, putting her little bottom on my forearm and supporting her head and back with my other hand. Her warm little body is a little wriggly but surprisingly, it is a lot easier to hold her than I thought. I even work up the courage to gently bounce her a little.

"Hi baby Steph, you're very cute. I like your chubba-chubba cheeks," I coo at her.

I notice Edward watching me very closely. Oddly, his facial expressions begin to shift very quickly, and it's something I'd never seen before. First I see surprise, then a sort of "Zen-like" calm and contentment, and last one looks like…sheer terror? It's over in just a few seconds and his face goes back to the way it always is. I decide that I must be imagining things.

I hand little Steph back to her mom and we say our goodbyes.

We're riding home from the restaurant and sit in comfortable silence. I let Edward drive since I felt too tired to do it myself anyway.

"You looked very sweet holding that baby," Edward says, breaking our silence.

"It was surprising pleasant, actually. She was awfully cute," I admit with a smile. "And even though I was never all that close with Lauren, she looked really happy to be a mom. I think it changed her in a good way," I add.

"I'm willing to guess it would do the same for you, Bella," he says with a sly smile.

"Hey, I just got used to holding a baby for five minutes, let's not get ahead of ourselves," I say with a laugh. He laughs back and puts his hand on my knee.

At the house I manage to find all the basic ingredients I need for sugar cookies. I can't resist making some while Edward reads a book in the living room. I'm washing my hands at the sink, done with my work and just waiting for the cookies to bake.

I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders.

"It smells really good in here," Edward says, putting his arms around me and pressing his cheek to mine, still standing behind me.

"I was in the mood to bake. Christmas does that to me," I say with a smile.

"You're very graceful in the kitchen. I've never seen you as much as knick your pinky," he says.

"Yeah, I wish I could carry that over into every other part of my life," I answer with a laugh.

"You know Bella, between watching you with a baby and now seeing you baking…it's oddly comforting and familiar, like I've seen you that way for years. I'm not doing a very good job at explaining this because I can't quite understand it myself," he says, leaning his chin against my head. "It almost makes me simultaneously really happy while scaring the shit out of me," he says with a laugh.

"I see what you're trying to say," I tell him. "And I can understand what that feels like, being excited but also scared," I add, reaching up to stroke his crazy uncombed hair.

"I love you Bella," he says sweetly in my hair before kissing the top of my head.

"I love you too, Edward," I reply warmly.

He starts massaging my neck.

"Mmm, that is exactly what I need right now," I sigh.

"I have something I need too, Bella," Edward whispers suggestively in my ear.

"Oh yeah? Shall we take this conversation upstairs?" I ask in a coy voice.

He moves his hands lower down, his thumbs working circles on my shoulder blades and his long fingers curling around the sides of my breasts. His mouth is on my neck, his soft lips planting hungry kisses on the delicate skin by my jaw. I can feel his five o'clock shadow prickling me. I exhale a long slow breath.

"I don't see why we need to leave the room. Charlie won't be back for a while," he answers between kisses.

"You're being rather frisky, Mr. Cullen," I say jokingly.

"Well don't be so intoxicating and tempting, Ms. Swan," he replies, his hands now gently migrating toward my breasts.

_Dude, I'm wearing a Christmas apron with chipmunks in Santa hats all over it, but if you say so..._

"Mmmm, Edward," I whisper as his kisses intensify. He pulls my shirt collar to expose the skin on my shoulder, kissing the hollow of my collarbone. His hands find my breasts, cupping them lightly.

I can feel him rubbing himself against my backside. His excitement is rather obvious.

_Oh my._

His fingers tease my nipples and I moan softly, tilting my head to the side. He slides one hand underneath my shirt and makes small circles on my stomach with his palm. He reaches around and unhooks my bra with one hand, groaning immediately as he touches my bare breast. The suddenness makes me gasp but it turns into a sigh when I can't resist how delicious his hand feels. His eagerness surprises me, but excites me nonetheless.

"My love…oh it feels so good when you touch me," I murmur softly.

_I can't believe we're getting it on in my dad's kitchen. I can't believe that I don't give a shit._

His other hand travels down to my backside briefly before it finds my hip. His rubbing against me becomes more eager now and his hand moves my hips with him. The spontaneity of all this is now making me insane and I start moving with him very obligingly.

"Bella I want you so badly," he says in my ear, his voice urgent.

_Gaaahhhh._

Feeling as though I might burst into flames at any second, I reach my hand behind me to feel for myself just _how_ badly he wants me.

_Yep, I'd say we've got a 5 alarm fire going on here too._

I stroke my hand against him through his jeans. He moans my name. Unable to stand it any longer, I begin to undo the button and zipper of my jeans but when Edward notices this, he helps me along, tugging my jeans and my panties down toward my thighs in one swift motion. His hand is on my ass, stroking it while his other hand is still on my breast.

"God, Edward you're making me nuts," I breathe in a throaty moan.

I'm moving my hips against him harder now as my hands roam up and down the sides of his thighs. His hand moves to my hip now, slowly grazing toward my pelvis.

"Bella sweetness, I can't get enough of you," he says into my neck, his hot breath making my hair stand on end.

He softly moves his hand between my legs, where I've been getting increasingly hotter and wetter. I feel his gentle fingers against my velvety flesh and I let out a low moan.

"Edward I want you badly too," I say, unable to tolerate much more without relief. Edward moans loudly in response.

His other hand is off my breast and undoing his pants. I can feel his erection on my backside, then against my very wet flesh. He gently pushes me so that I need to lean forward and brace my hands against the sink, allowing him access inside me. With one hand on my hip and another on my breast, he enters me slowly. The sensation of it sends a delicious jolt of pleasure through me and I'm very glad I'm hanging on to something.

"Ahh, Edward, yes…I love the way you feel inside me," I murmur, dropping my head down. He moans loudly in response to my erotic words.

His movements hasten gradually and he moves his hand from my hip back to where it was between my legs, finding my now torturously swollen bud to softly graze his finger against it back and forth. I can't think straight anymore. I move my hips against him faster and faster as we both begin to pant.

Between the combination of him being inside me, his hand on my clit and the other hand on my breast gently pinching my nipple, it doesn't take me long to feel heat building up inside me until it rolls outward in intense waves, my muscles clenching and unclenching. I say the name of the man I love more than anything over and over again.

Feeling my orgasm, Edward begins groaning loudly until his sounds become lusty grunts.

"Bella, God I love you," he moans as he cums, resting his forehead on the back of my head. He puts his arms around my waist and kisses my shoulder.

Just as we're about to take a minute to catch our breaths, I almost jump out of my skin, suddenly startled. It's a loud, sudden DING sound—the kitchen timer. We both start laughing at the ridiculous coincidence.

"I like you the way you time the cookies better," I tell Edward as I try to compose myself before opening the oven door.

It's Christmas morning and Edward has snuck into my room while Charlie takes a shower. He climbs into my narrow bed, barely fitting.

"Merry Christmas, Bella," he says, smiling broadly. His flannel PJ bottoms feel soft against my feet. He wraps his arms around me and tries to kiss me, but I protest, not wanting to expose him to my dragon breath. He settles for my forehead.

"Would it be OK if we opened our gifts now, so I can kiss you when I thank you?" Edward asks.

"Sure, just let me brush my teeth really quick," I reply.

I run down to the kitchen to use the sink since Charlie's in the bathroom.

_I will never look at that sink the same way again._

When I head back upstairs, Edward and I exchange gifts, laughing and kissing as we open each wrapped box.

"Well, thank you so much for all the cool gifts, my love," I say, getting up so I can go downstairs to get breakfast started and open gifts with Charlie.

"Hang on, Santa left you one last thing," Edward says, a sly grin on his face.

"Oh, well Santa is being very mysterious because I don't see a wrapped box anywhere," I answer back, knowing full well that Edward was up to something, as usual.

"That's because it's not wrapped. Check the pocket of your PJs," he tells me, smiling more broadly now.

I put my hand in my pocket and feel something. I pull it out and smile. It's a beautiful pendant and chain. The pendant is a heart with an inscription on one side, but it's not in English.

"Edward, this is beautiful, what does it say?" I ask, touched by this thoughtful gesture.

"It's French, well, old French actually, from the 15th Century. 'A Ma Vie De Coer Entier,' means 'all my heart for all my life,'" he explains, "Do you like it?" he asks.

_Swoon. Does that answer your question?_

I lean into Edward as he sits on my bed, put both hands on his face and give him a long, sweet kiss.

"You can take that as 'yes,'" I reply with a laugh. "But Edward," I say, getting serious, "you've seriously outshined me here. I didn't get you anything nearly as nice," I say, feeling self-conscious.

"What do you mean? You gave me great gifts!" he protests, "For one thing, I love the new beanie—I don't have a gray one, plus you knit it yourself."

"It's not as nice as this," I say sheepishly, gesturing at the pendant that is now around my neck.

"Come here, Bella," he says, pulling my hand toward him. I sit on his lap and he gives me a kiss.

Hey picks up the pendant and gently holds it against his fingers.

"I picked this particular pendant not so much as a gift but as a thank you," he says, smiling at me. "Giving you my heart is the least I could after what you did to it," he adds, stroking my cheek.

"What did I do?" I ask, smiling back.

"You fixed it," he replies, right before he kisses me again, but longer this time.

Charlie is dropping us off at the airport as our brief stay comes to an end. We say our goodbyes and I give him one last tight hug as Edward gets our bags together.

"I'll miss you, Charlie," I tell him.

"I'll miss you too, Bells," he says back, "Listen, I'm glad you brought Edward. I think he's a good kid. I don't have to worry about you not using that deadbolt when he's around," he says with a smile. For Charlie, this is about as close to a ringing endorsement as anyone could get, and I'm very happy to hear it.

_Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We're about to begin taxiing the runway to get ready for take off. Our destination is Chicago and we'll be departing shortly._

_God, I hate planes._


	13. New Year's Eveward

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Thirteen: New Year's Eveward**

"_Oh, baby, it's alright now, you ain't gotta flaunt for me  
If we go there, you can still touch my love, it's free  
We can work without the perks just you and me  
Thug it out 'til we get it right"_

—Timbaland, "The Way I Are"

I'm eating a sweet Red Delicious apple while resting my book on the little plastic fold-out tray in front of me. An obnoxious kid keeps kicking the back of my seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see long masculine fingers quietly slide a cocktail napkin across my tray. There's something written on it.

_Meet me in the restroom in 3 minutes?_

My eyes go wide as I bite down on my lip to suppress a giggle. And of course, I blush. I slowly turn my head in the direction my little note came from. I look at the face of the man sitting next to me. I've seen his expression before, and it drives me nuts every time. His head is slightly tilted sideways and one of his thick eyebrows is…um…cocked. If his nostrils are flaring too, then I know things have escalated to DefCon 1 status and I better prepare myself. I call this look Edward's "Git R Done face" and nothing on God's green earth makes me hornier.

His nostrils start flaring.

_Alright sailor, bring it on._

I wink at him and before eye is even open again, his seatbelt is unbuckled and he is a blur down the aisle. Edward had been so calm and controlled for so much of the earlier part of our relationship that seeing this side of him thrilled me to no end.

_Has it been 3 minutes yet?_

I make my way toward the front of the plane and stop at the lavatory I saw Edward go into a few minutes ago. After looking over my shoulder to make sure no one is staring right at me, I softly tap my knuckles against the door. It opens and one of my favorite pair of hands pulls me in by the elbow. Edward smiles down at me like the devil he is and grabs my face, kissing me. I chuckle lightly, afraid that noise will bring attention to us.

"Edward, there's no room in here," I say softly with a devious smile.

"I'm remarkably flexible," he replies, kissing my neck, his hands already on my breasts. I cannot resist his hands and mouth on me. I never can. I run my fingers through his thick hair while my other hand travels up his shirt to find his bare chest.

"Mmm, my beautiful Bella," he whispers in my ear, his breath giving me goose bumps.

His hands are on the delicate little buttons of my snug red cardigan, easily popping each one out of its hole with his deft fingers. He reaches inside to effortlessly flick open my bra and caresses my breast without even completely unbuttoning my sweater. My nipple is stiff before his bare hand even touches it.

"Feels so good…" I murmur, unable to say a complete sentence.

_I am living out every geek girl's fantasy._

I kiss Edward's delicious lips, paying close attention to the plump bottom one, flicking it lightly with my tongue. He moans in response, gently rolling my nipple between his fingers. His other hand is on my thigh, pushing up the hem of my flowing peasant skirt. I begin to unconsciously sway my hips, my body seeking to gratify itself in any way it can.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asks in a husky voice.

"Why don't you show me?" I purr back, knowing this will cause the reaction I want.

He takes in a deep breath through his nose and lets out a slow low growl. His hand stops rubbing my thigh and goes lower, to the back of my knee. He picks my leg up and rests my foot on the wide ledge of plastic molding next to the toilet seat behind him. He's now firmly standing between my legs and I'm pinned between him and the tiny counter and mirror. He keeps me balanced by keeping one hand firmly planted on ass, while the other makes circles on the inside of my thigh as his hand travels upward. This immediately starts more wetness to accumulate between my legs, where my tender flesh is already very moist.

I roam my hands all over him—his gorgeous, chiseled chest, his masculine shoulders, his strong back. I let them linger on his firm, gorgeous backside before focusing my attention to the front of his pants. I run my palm below the button of his black khakis, easily finding him in quite an aroused state. I stroke my hand up and down, pressing on the increasingly harder and harder, very large bulge under it.

_¡Ay papi!_

"Uhhhn, God, Bella," Edward moans.

His hand is now reaching the outside of my panties. His fingers tease the flesh under it and I let out a lustful sigh as I feel them. He deftly slides his long middle finger between the fabric and my body. He lavishes my wet folds with eager strokes and the pleasure it gives me is unreal.

_Hmm, I wonder…_

"Edward, I love the way you finger my pussy," I murmur into his ear.

I feel him tense up instantly. He inhales through his teeth in a low hiss.

_Heh heh._

I start to undo the button and zipper of his pants, working them down so I can pull open the hole on his boxers. I ease him out and gently guide him toward me as he shifts the thin fabric of my panties over. After some minor adjustments in angle, he gently eases himself into me. My mind goes mad with lust.

_This is like playing Twister, only with orgasms._

With one hand still on my backside to hold me steady, his other hand is back on my breast, teasing my nipple with gentle tugs. The whole idea of what we're doing—having sex while complete strangers are just feet away from us as we're pressed up in a tiny space—is giving me a rush of excitement that is just too irresistible.

"God, I love fucking you," I moan.

_Did I say that out loud? My bad!_

Edward's eyes are boring into me now, as if he's willing me not to talk the way I am, lest he lose his mind completely. I give him a very devious smile while he thrusts into me, his breathing getting heavier.

I look right into that smoldering, brooding expression and lick my lips slowly.

"Uhhhn, Edward, fuck me, please fuck me!" I whisper pleadingly. My eyes never leave his.

His lips curl into a snarl and his pace quickens and gains force.

"Belllaaa," he growls, like a warning.

I'm playing with his control and few things excite me more. Knowing that I have the ability to enhance his arousal to the point where he gets lost completely is just too delicious to resist. I can no longer stand what it's doing to me and put my hand between my legs, seeking relief. The tips of my fingers find my wet and swollen bud and I rub circles on it. I bite down on my lip as the pressure deep inside me starts to get intoxicatingly unbearable.

As the waves of ecstasy roll through me, I moan his name over and over. My muscles clench around him and I can tell he won't last long.

_Houston, we are cleared for lift-off._

"Please cum in me, Edward," I beg, looking right in his eyes. He glares at me with a steely gaze.

"Rrrrr……aaaahhhhn!" he grunts through clenched teeth.

He stops his hips, and his body twitches lightly. His head falls forward, and he leans his forehead on my shoulder. He spills into me, panting and sweating.

"I love you, Edward," I say, kissing his hair.

"You love to torture me," he whispers back.

_Who, me?_

"But I love you too," he adds, kissing me.

Walking through O'Hare airport makes my head spin. The size of the place is unreal. It makes Seattle's Sea-Tac airport look downright tiny in comparison.

As we exit the baggage claim area, I see a man in a black suit holding a sign that says "CULLEN" in big letters.

"Do you know that guy?" I ask Edward, gesturing at the man.

Edward laughs. "If he knew him, he wouldn't be holding a sign with my name on it," he replies. "He's from the car service," he explains.

"Oh," I say, treading completely unfamiliar territory. I want to ask exactly what a "car service" is but I already got laughed at.

_Don't the people in Chicago just wave at the bright yellow cars that drive by when they need a lift?_

"Hi, I'm Edward Cullen," Edward says to the man in the suit.

"Very good, sir. Shall I take your bags?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you," Edward replies politely, handing the man our luggage.

We walk outside when I notice that the "car" is technically a "car" since it has four tires and a steering wheel, but it's shaped like a black limousine.

I quickly realize that there are two types of rich people—the "conspicuous consumers" who like to flaunt their wealth and the ones who describe their possessions in ridiculously understated terms. For them, the limo is a "car," the chauffeur is a "driver," the country estate is a "summer house," the 90 foot yacht is a "boat" and so on. I get the impression that the "understaters" have more money. I think Edward and his family are "understaters."

Carlisle and Esme live in a beautiful high rise in an area of downtown Chicago called "The Loop." Their elegant condominium overlooks Lake Michigan on one side and the massive Grant Park. The home has huge floor to ceiling glass windows everywhere, giving 360° views of the lake, park and the city skyline.

"Edward! Bella! Welcome," Esme says enthusiastically, greeting us at the door. "I've missed you both," she adds with a beaming smile. She hugs both of us at the same time.

_I puffy heart you Esme._

"I've just finished making dinner, are you hungry Bella?" she asks sweetly.

"Famished," I reply with a smile.

Carlisle comes home from work just as I finish helping Esme set the table. I still have a hard time getting over how good looking my boyfriend's dad is. He looks remarkably young for his age and could easily pass for Edward's older brother. He's wearing an elegantly tailored suit with a beautiful silk tie that he's loosened after a long day.

He greets me with a debonair smile and a hello in that deep rich voice.

_Helllllooo Dr. Daddy, will you kiss my boo boo? _

_OMG, Bella! That's just wrong!!_

"Esme and I will be attending the annual charity function for the Art Institute this New Year's Eve. It would be wonderful if you could join us," he says to Edward and me. "Of course, it's entirely up to you if you'd like to spend the evening alone," he adds graciously.

I speak up before Edward can answer. I really don't want to seem rude and refuse. This event sounds like something that Edward's parents want to go to with their son. In meeting with them in New Hampshire, it's obvious that they're very close with their only child and I hate to intrude on that.

"Thank you Carlisle, we would love to join you, wouldn't we Edward?" I ask with a courteous smile.

"Yes, of course," he says, smiling back at me. "I'd need to go to Dad's tailor for a fitting and Bella needs a dress," he adds.

"I've already scheduled appointments for both," chimes in Esme happily, obviously hoping we'd say yes.

Edward helps me get settled in after dinner and shows me to my room. It's gigantic and very tastefully decorated, with Mission-style wood furniture and bed frame. There's an adjoining bathroom with a large vanity.

"Would you like to go for a swim?" Edward asks me.

"It's like 20 below zero out, Edward," I laugh.

"Not outdoors. We have an indoor pool. My mom had the solarium converted and it was installed last year. The room and the water are heated. It's quite nice," he explains.

"_Nice." I love these rich understaters._

"Um, OK. Wait, I don't have a bathing suit," I say, realizing I didn't pack one.

"Yes, you do. I had Alice get one before we left. It's in my suitcase," he says, grinning like a devil.

_Alice. Why am I not surprised?_

"You know you really shouldn't enable her problem," I respond, both of us laughing.

Edward returns from his bedroom and hands me some tiny blue bits of fabric.

"This isn't a bathing suit. It's a few band-aids held together with dental floss," I say, my expression incredulous.

"And your point is?" he replies playfully, giving me that devilish grin again.

"I don't want your parents to see me in this hoochie mama bikini!" I scold.

"Don't worry Bella, we have lots of bathrobes. Besides, the pool is on the other side of the house, at the end of hall," he explains, trying to reassure me. "Plus, they've already gone to their room for the night and it's not likely they'll leave, if you know what I mean," he adds with a snicker.

_Yeah, you've got a point there. If I were Esme, I'd still be tapping that. HARD. _

_Bella! You are ten kinds of nasty._

"Alright, gimme that thing, all three molecules of it," I say, conceding defeat.

The look on Edward's face is nothing short of sheer jubilation. I'm almost expecting him to do some kind of elated happy dance complete with jazz hands all around the room.

"Something tells me your bathing suit isn't this small," I say sarcastically.

"Bella, Edward Cullen does not wear a banana hammock," he says in mock disdain.

I tell him to get the hell out of the room before I change my mind.

He meets me in front of my bedroom a few minutes later. I have a bathrobe on, pulled tight and all the way up to my chin. I'm too afraid it'll loosen and come open.

"Ready? Maybe you should put a parka on over that, you don't look covered up enough," Edward suggests with a laugh.

I don't answer. I just give him the hairy eyeball. I can't help but check him out while I'm giving him that dirty look. He looks like a Greek god, full stop. That perfect torso, long strong arms and hands, the muscular legs. His black boardshorts hang loosely on his waist, exposing those delicious lower abs and obliques—the muscles that form a diagonal line on either side of his groin.

_Slurp._

The pool room really is amazing. It's got a sliding glass door that opens into a sizable space with beautiful tile floor. The rectangular pool itself isn't very big, but can easily accommodate one or two people for laps. The room is nice and toasty, making a swim very comfortable.

I ease out of my robe feeling self-conscious. I know it's silly, as Edward has seen me completely naked lots of times. It's just that I feel really uncomfortable wearing things that are so "over the top" provocative. It's just not my style and I don't think I pull that kind of look off well at all.

"Oh Bella, God help me, you look…unbelievable," Edward says softly, eyeing me up and down, his hand stroking my arm.

The bikini really leaves very little to the imagination. It's a powder blue color with string straps. The bottom piece is a g-string. I silently thank God for taking Rosalie's advice and getting a _very_ thorough body waxing before leaving for winter break.

_I want to kill Alice._

"I want to send Alice a gift basket," he says with a smirk.

When I turn to put my robe down on a chair, he sees my very exposed backside. I can hear him gasp.

"Get in the pool, Cullen," is all I say, not turning around.

Before I know it, he grabs me from behind, picks me and scurries toward the edge of the water.

"Don't you d—," is all I manage to shriek before he drops me in.

The next morning we make plans for the day while at the breakfast table.

"Bella," Esme says, looking at me, "Would you like to go looking for a dress today?" she asks, smiling warmly.

_I do love you Esme, but I hate shopping._

Not wanting to seem impolite, I give her the most genuine nod I can muster. It's obvious by the look on her face that it wasn't genuine looking enough.

"To be honest, I really hate shopping for clothes, especially for formal occasions," she says. "That's why I always talk with my stylist first, so she can have things picked out for me, ready for me to look at and try on. It makes it all so much easier and more enjoyable. I hope you don't think this is forward of me, Bella, but I asked her to meet with us today at my favorite little shop. If you're not comfortable with that, please, it won't offend me in the slightest," she explains, trying her hardest to be accommodating.

"Esme, that's very kind of you. Of course, I'd be more than happy to do that. Thank you for thinking of me. I appreciate it," I say earnestly.

I remember the way Rosalie had picked out the outfit I bought for my first date with Edward and how much easier it made the whole experience. Esme really was a very kind and considerate person. I'm sure this stylist isn't cheap either, and I feel guilty over the money being spent on me.

Edward and Carlisle plan on spending the day getting their suits taken care of and then going off to do guy stuff. Carlisle works a lot so I'm glad that he has some spare time to spend with Edward.

The "little shop" Esme likes to frequent is one of the many designer boutiques and other upscale retail stores along Chicago's Michigan Avenue, famously known as The Magnificent Mile.

"Here we are," Esme says as we're dropped off by Carlisle and Edward at our destination.

I look up at the "little shop" and its storefront. There's one word on the sign—_Chanel._

_Christ on a crouton, these rich people and their understatements!_

As soon as we open the door, we're ushered in by what looks like every employee in the store. They greet Esme by name.

Esme's stylist, a very friendly woman by the name of Angela, approaches us and introduces herself to me. I wouldn't have guessed that she worked in fashion because she had a very "bookish" look to her, wearing smart glasses and her hair in a bun. She did, however, have on an extremely well polished two piece suit and beautiful heels.

"So, Bella, when I spoke with Mrs. Cullen, she told me a bit about you—things like what you look like, your height, your body shape but also she mentioned that you're in college, majoring in English and that you love photography. Oh, and she mentioned you're a big fan of Jane Austen," she says, making sure she had all her details correct.

"Yes, I think that about sums me up," I say with a smile.

"OK, so I picked out a few pieces that I think will complement you physically but also match your personality," she explains. "Here, let's start with this one," she says, bringing me a beautiful black cocktail dress. It's made of flowing silk, with delicate ruche trim and spaghetti straps. It has a banded waist that cinches in and is very flattering. Mostly I like it because it's very feminine but also modern. I know it'll look good before I even before I try it on.

I come out of the dressing room and Esme is beaming.

"Oh Bella, you look stunning. Don't try on another thing, we're done," she says, making me feel ten feet tall.

"Thank you Esme," I reply, blushing at her generous praise.

As I put my clothes back on and gently get the dress back on its hanger, I can't help but feel like the Cullens are doing way too much for me. I know they genuinely want to be gracious but I just don't feel right.

I take a seat next to Esme in the big lounge area of the store while Angela talks with the sales associates.

"Esme, I want to thank you again for being so kind, but I don't think I can accept the dress," I say, feeling sorry for spoiling her mood and perhaps even disappointing her.

"Bella, dear, do you not like the dress? We can find something else," she offers kindly.

"No, no, Esme, the dress is wonderful. It's just that…well, I've never shopped in a store like this, but I do know when something doesn't even have a price tag on it, it's going to cost a lot of money, and I can't let you spend that on me. I don't think I could help pay for more than a small fraction of it," I explain.

"Bella, sweetheart, please, don't trouble yourself with any of that. I admire the respect you're extending me and I can tell you have a lot of integrity. But you should know, these designers, while they advertise a great deal, the majority of their business is through word of mouth. When someone compliments my outfit and asks where I bought it, it gives this store more positive exposure than a billboard. And when you wear that black dress, believe me, lots of women are going to want to know where you got it," she explains.

She leans in and whispers in my ear. "Bella, I _never_ pay full price," she chuckles.

I laugh and give her a hug, thanking her again for her generosity. After trying on a pair of matching wedge heels that miraculously don't make me feel at all unsteady, our shopping is done. I thank Angela for her wonderful help and guidance and we set off for lunch.

Esme's favorite "little lunch spot" is an elegant French restaurant clearly catering to the "ladies who lunch" crowd. Lots of the women enjoying their food recognize Esme and she nods a polite hello and gives a smile to her various acquaintances.

We're chatting and eating our meal when a woman approaches our table. I don't know her but I recognize her features immediately. Judging by her age, she could only be one person.

_Mother of Glamazon._

"Esme!" she bellows so everyone can hear. "How are you? So nice to see you, dearheart," she gushes in a completely saccharine, disingenuous voice.

_Do you mind? I'm eating._

"Hello, Sasha, nice to see you," Esme says politely yet with restraint.

Esme does the introductions as a matter of courtesy. When she introduces me as "Edward's girlfriend," Sasha's face completely changes. Apparently her saccharine façade melts easily.

"Oh, I didn't hear that he was dating anyone," she says dismissively, as if I were completely insignificant.

_Go away you Ivana Trump wannabe with synthetic tits._

"Well yes, it's been several months now. They met at Dartmouth," Esme says, smiling sweetly at me. I smile back.

"Oh, I see you've been shopping," Faux-vana says, snooping at my shopping bags.

"Yes, Bella needed something to wear for the benefit on New's Year's Eve," Esme explains.

"I see. Bella, you've got some head on you. Getting pretty designer hand-outs and there isn't even a ring on your finger yet. You're good! There's never been a charitable cause the Cullens didn't like," she rants venomously.

_Oh my GOD. I'm about to go Slap-a-ho Nation on this bitch!_

"Wait, don't tell me—YOU'RE PREGNANT?!?" Faux-vana screeches for everyone to hear.

The entire place is staring at us. I go white as a sheet, then beet red. The room starts to wobble and I feel lightheaded.

I look over at Esme and I see something on her face I've never seen before.

She looks livid.

Absolutely spitting mad.

Seriously ready to go ape shit.

Her pretty eyes are reduced to slits as she throws her linen napkin onto the table with an angry whip of her wrist. She stands up out of her seat and purses her lips.

"SASHA DENALI!" she says in a loud voice. "The nerve of you! I would demand an apology for Bella this second if I was even remotely interested in one, but I'm not. You have no right to insult this sweet, caring child. Do you know why? Because she has more moral fiber and character in her little pinky than your over-indulged brat of a daughter has in her entire body! Perhaps if you had raised Tanya with values instead of teaching her to think only of herself, she would have had a chance with my son!" she spouts angrily.

_Esme, can I be you when I grow up?_

"It would behoove you to leave, Sasha, and not seek my company ever again—not for bridge parties, not at the country club, not at charity balls or any other events. You are no longer a friend of the Cullen family. I have had enough, Sasha, and this was absolutely the last straw," she says curtly, her eyes still flashing with anger.

And with that, she takes her seat, smoothes down her blouse and puts her napkin back on her lap. She doesn't look up at Sasha or say another word. As far as she's concerned, the matter is done and she's already moved on. Even her face is back to its usual serene self.

_Damn, you are hardcore Esme._

Faux-vana just walks off, trying to look indignant but I could tell she was more shocked and scared than anything else.

"Bella, please allow me to apologize for Sasha's behavior and my own," she says sincerely. "I do regret losing my temper like that and spoiling our meal," she adds.

"Esme, I wish I could've said half the things you did! Please don't be sorry," I reply, hoping she's not too upset with herself. I reach over and put my hand on hers and we smile at each other.

Since this is my first visit to Chicago, Edward and I spend the next few days doing some sightseeing. I bring my camera with me and happily snap pictures at anything and everything. I already had many, many pictures of Edward but I can't resist taking at least one of him whenever I have my camera out. I especially like catching him when he doesn't know I'm taking his photograph. There's something so beautiful and real about a candid picture, and Edward's handsome and very expressive face is my most favorite subject.

We're visiting the observation deck at the Sears Tower, standing at a dizzying height above the ground. It's twilight and the panoramic view of the cityscape with all the lights twinkling in hushed gold colors is just breathtaking.

"Edward, it's so beautiful," I saw, looking out over the city in awe.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he says, pulling me close for a kiss.

"Thank you for showing me around the city, this was fun. I really like it here," I say.

"Well, I was hoping you'd like it, so that you'd come back with me for the summer," he replies, holding my hand in his.

"I'd like that very much," I say, nestling my head on his shoulder.

The next day is December 31st—the last day of the year. I spend most of the day with Esme, getting ready for our formal occasion that night. She insists on treating me to a manicure and pedicure and having a hairstylist put my long hair in an updo. It looks pretty flattering on me actually. The stylist uses pins with delicate little rhinestones on them that are interspersed all around and hold my hair in place.

After getting myself all ready, I put on my dress and inspect myself in my bedroom mirror.

_I feel like a princess. I wonder where my prince is._

I slip my shoes on and have a seat in the living room, bringing my favorite little dog eared book with me. I settle in and read for a bit, trying to relax.

Someone gently lifts my hand and bends forward to kiss it. I look up and lay my eyes on the most handsome creature I've ever seen.

_Edward._

It's Edward. In a tuxedo. I'm so blown away I can't even speak. I just stare at him like I did that first day I saw him. In fact, I'm feeling a lot of the same things I did then. My heart is racing, I can't tear my eyes off him, and I want to kiss him more than anything else in the world.

_Edward Cullen Panty Pudding  
1 tuxedo, freshly pressed and exquisitely tailored, with black tie and cummerbund  
1 generous tablespoon James Dean bad-boy  
¼ teaspoon Prince William regal bearing  
1 pinch Frank Sinatra cool__  
Combine together in a way only God's loving hands could. Serve open-face, with Bella on top._

"Bella?" he asks, looking at me quizzically.

"Huh?" I sigh, staring at him dreamily.

He gives me that crooked smile, knowing full well it's going to knock me sideways.

_Gorgeous bastard._

He helps me to my feet and inspects my dress and hair.

"God, Bella. I wish I could say you're beautiful but you make the word 'beautiful' sound just too ordinary," he says, his eyes taking me in. "You look…like perfection," he adds, kissing my hand. I blush at his abundant praise.

I put both hands on either side of his face, looking deeply in his eyes, and give him a long lingering kiss.

"Bella, I want to show you a little something," he says, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.

He takes out a small black velvet jewelry case and opens it. He turns the case around so I can see what's in it.

_A little something, huh?_

My eyes go wide and my mouth opens as I see the most exquisite pair of diamond earrings I've ever seen. They're "drop" style, with intricate filigree in a platinum setting. I gather they must be antique based on their design, probably turn of the century.

"Edward," I gasp.

"Do you like them? They're a family heirloom—a gift to my great grandmother Masen from my great grandfather, who I'm named after. They were bequeathed to me when I was born, with the understanding that I give them to someone just as special as the original recipient," he explains.

"I can't Edward, I just can't. They're gorgeous…" I stammer.

"I knew you'd say that," he replies with a smile. "So I'm asking you to borrow them for the night, until you feel ready to accept them, with my love," he adds.

_Swoooooooooooooooooooon._

He helps me put them on as I fight tears with all the energy I can muster.

"Thank you, for everything. I love you, Edward," I murmur softly.

"I love you too, Bella," he replies, smiling at me sweetly while admiring the earrings. "Now, you look…better than perfection," he says, drawing me close for another kiss.

"The car is downstairs waiting. Shall we?" he asks, extending his arm, bent at the elbow.

I gently loop my hand through it and let him lead the way.

The "car" is a shiny cream colored Bentley.

_These people are ridonkulous._

The Art Institute of Chicago is a world renowned museum that houses some of the world's most priceless works of art. Tonight's gala is a benefit to raise money for the museum's various programs, including projects that make the visual arts accessible for kids and seniors.

Tonight's event is being held in the museum's "Stock Exchange" ballroom, constructed from sections of the original Chicago Stock Exchange when it was demolished some 30 years ago. There are elaborate stenciled decorations, molded plaster capitals, and art glass in this beautiful, elegant space. Gold linens and enormous lush floral centerpieces adorn the many dining tables.

Tonight's guest list must be a "who's who" of Chicago's high society. I see more air kissing going on than at a Hollywood premiere. Esme seems to know everyone and I notice that she's shown an awful lot of deference. I'm also surprised by how many people there are around my age range—it looks like Edward isn't the only here with his parents. He recognizes a lot of the men his age, shaking hands and introducing me to an endless stream of people. Of course there's also a parade of gorgeous girls fawning over him but he doesn't seem to notice, holding me close with his arm around my waist.

_That's right bizitches. All mine._

After enjoying a sumptuous meal and lively conversation with Edward, his parents and their close friends, I excuse myself to use the restroom and tidy myself up.

I walk into the enormous ladies room and see groups of young women milling around the pretty decorative couches and settees. I'm a little shocked at how some of them are behaving. Most look quite drunk, laughing loudly and swearing up and down. One little pack of hyenas in the corner is huddled around obviously doing something they don't want anyone to notice. I creep up to get a better look and see them bending over a small mirrored end table with lines of white powder on it.

_Jesus, money really isn't everything. Gross._

One of them turns and notices me. She laughs.

"Hey sweetie, want a bump? It's fucking sick shit. Pure like a virrrrgin!" she chortles, obviously high out of her gourd.

"Um, no thanks. It's not my thing," I say, trying to sound nonchalant and not so goody two shoes.

Just then, another hyena spins around, recognizing my voice.

_FUCK! Glamazon._

She's wearing a sleeveless fire engine red chiffon cocktail dress with a neckline that literally ends right above her navel.

"Oh my God!" she shrieks, her nose red with little specs of powder under it. "It's Pollyanna Podunk!" she hollers with a vicious grin, taking a step toward me.

"Shit, I have no idea what the fuck Edward sees in your plain low-rent ass," she says, eyeing me up and down with a sneer. "And that cunt Esme telling off my mom over you, that's just too fucking rich!" she laughs cruelly.

_Oh no she didn't. She did not just put Esme on blast._

"Don't you say a word about Esme, Tanya. You can insult me all you want but don't you dare run your nasty mouth off about her," I warn, my anger rising.

She laughs at me. I just get angrier.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it, Pollyanna?" she dares.

I grab one of the very full ashtrays off the coffee table beside me and toss it at her, covering her cleavage and dress with gray and black ashes.

"You little ghetto bitch!" she yells, looking down at the huge mess I made of her outfit.

"Tanya, I'm the ghetto bitch who Edward Cullen comes home to every night—the ghetto bitch who wakes up next to him every morning. You only wish you were a ghetto bitch," I spit out with pure disdain.

I turn on my little wedged heel and get the fuck out of there, feeling awesome.

Wanting a little privacy to cool my temper, I seek refuge on the beautiful outdoor courtyard. I find a warm spot next to one of the many heat lamps set up for people wanting to enjoy the night air without freezing.

I take my iPod out of my little clutch purse and put on the earbuds, hoping some music will put me in a good mood again. I listen for a few minutes when someone takes a seat next to me.

"What are you listening to?" Edward asks with a smile.

I hand him my iPod so he can look over the playlist.

"The Smiths? Well, aren't we a chipper little ball of sunshine?" he asks rhetorically with a laugh. I laugh too.

He takes one of the earbuds and puts in his own ear.

"Let's find something a little more suited for the occasion," he says, inspecting the songs on the iPod. "Ah, here we go—perfect," he says, picking something else.

"Isabella Swan, may I have this dance?" Edward asks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

The gentle melody of Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" starts playing softly in my ear.

_Like I can say 'no' to you._

"I'd be delighted, Edward Cullen," I reply, smiling back at him.

We sway back and forth slowly, our arms wrapped around each other, each of us wearing one earbud.

"_I see trees of green, red roses too  
I see em bloom, for me and for you  
And I think to myself…what a wonderful world"_

Just as the song ends, we hear the crowd inside chanting the countdown to the New Year.

As it tolls midnight, we hug and kiss. And kiss. And kiss.

"Happy New Year, Bella," Edward says sweetly, stroking my cheek.

"Happy New Year, Edward," I say back, grinning from ear to ear.

_What a wonderful world, indeed._


	14. Slings & Arrows of Outrageous Fortune

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Fourteen: The Slings & Arrows of Outrage(ous Fortune)**

"_I don't care what you think  
as long as it's about me  
the best of us can find happiness  
in misery"_

—Fall Out Boy, "I Don't Care"

_Crap I better get this right or I'm toast!_

"I drink to the honorable Cardinal Puff for the first time tonight," I say before tapping my very full glass of beer on the table and setting it down.

I pick the glass up again and take several large gulps before putting it down again. I tap the table with my index fingers one at a time. I grab my drink again, holding it using my thumb, index and middle finger.

"I drink to the Cardinal Puff Puff, for the second time tonight," I say.

I take two separate swings, tap the table, and use my two fingers and repeat the first step.

"I drink to the Cardinal Puff, Puff, for the third time tonight," I say.

Everyone in the room immediately yells "Ohhhh!" and laughs like crazy. Edward grabs my waist. I'm sitting on his lap in our kitchen. All the housemates are here as well as a group of friends from around the cluster.

_Shit! I suck at drinking games._

"You only said 'Puff' twice! You need to drink the whole pint and start all over," he tells me, laughing.

"Better get to drinkin, Bella," Jasper says with a grin. "I think your man's gonna have to cart you out of here when you're done, but I bet he'll get some hay for his donkey out of it!" he jokes with a wink and elbowing Edward, making his insinuation quite obvious.

"I would never take advantage of a woman when her judgment is compromised," Edward says with fake righteous indignation.

"No, you wouldn't Edward; you'd just bore the shit out of her talking about vampires and classical music, which I think is a helluva lot worse!" Emmett interjects with a bellowing laugh, cracking himself and everyone else up—even Edward, who normally doesn't have a sense of humor about being teased. But Emmett is one of Edward's closest friends, and it's hard to resist Emmett's playful nature.

We're starting our weekend a little early on this Thursday evening since Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper and Alice are going skiing in Vermont for the weekend. Saturday is Valentine's Day and they want to make a nice trip out of it.

As if sensing my thoughts, Alice appears by my side.

"Bella, are you sure you guys don't want to go with us tomorrow night?" Alice asks as she pops over and sits on Jasper's lap next to Edward.

"Trust me Alice. Bella + skiing = disaster. I don't want to ruin your weekend by spending most of it in the ER with me," I say with a laugh. "You guys have fun. I'm sure Edward and I will just have to think of something to do while we have the house to ourselves," I add with a sly grin.

After finishing the rest of my pint rather quickly, I notice it's given me a bit of a buzz. I'm glad for the pretty large dinner I ate a few hours before drinking.

Spotting Edward across the room talking to Emmett, I begin one of my favorite pastimes—ogling my boyfriend. The alcohol just enhances the experience.

_Lessee, what do we have here this evening?_

Edward amazes me in so many ways. But right now, I'm thinking about how a guy from such wealthy circumstances could spend so little money on clothes and still look hotter than a man in a thousand dollar suit. Tonight, he's wearing a plain black t-shirt, loose gray vintage trousers with a wallet chain from his belt loop to his back pocket, and a pair of beat up Chuck Taylor low-tops. I doubt he paid more than $20 for what he's wearing. Add the scruffy five o'clock shadow and messy hair along with the insanely handsome face and there's nothing left but the crying, my friend.

_Yum yum, gimme some._

He notices me looking at him and I give him a faint smile. The beauty of our little unspoken exchanges is how subtle they are. I would never be able to overtly flirt with Edward without looking like a complete knucklehead. I'd probably end up falling over or stubbing my toe or having some other mortifying mishap. But with him, less is definitely more. It can be something as innocent as tilting my head or leaning my shoulder toward him while lowering my eyes and shifting my gaze away. He can read those signals as clearly as if I was buck naked and giving him a lap dance while holding a giant sign that said "DO ME EDWARD."

_OK, I'm drunk and want to play with my best friend. And by best friend I mean Edward's penis. _

_Time to get out the big guns._

I catch his gaze again while he's talking. He's looking at me with his head slightly tilted forward as he scratches the back of his head, lost in conversation. I love it when he looks at me through those thick brows, the whites of his eyes showing under his pupils.

_Bedroom eyes. Sigh._

I lick my lips slowly, like I'm thinking of something. Then I bite my lower lip and look away from him, staring at something random from the side. I twist a lock of my hair. Before I have the chance to look back at him, he's standing next to me.

"Bella, you're distracting me," he growls in my ear. He puts his hands on my hips and pulls me close to him.

_Why Edward, whatever do you mean?_

"Oh, I was um, just daydreaming about you," I say, very nonchalantly.

"Daydreaming, huh?" he replies, raising his eyebrow at me.

"I was daydreaming about how I want you…inside me," I whisper in his ear.

He groans softly, putting his hands in my hair.

"I need to take you upstairs, young lady," he says with mock scolding.

"I need relief," I whisper.

He glares at me, his lips pursed, but he still has a very playful look in his eyes.

Before I can stop him, he picks me up and drapes me over his shoulder. I lightly beat my fists against his back in mock protest.

"You know Edward, there are more subtle ways to woo a lady," Jasper says, laughing at us and drawing everyone's attention.

"Holy shit, Cullen's gonna get laid!" Emmett hollers in fake shock.

By now the whole crowd is cheering and whistling.

"ED-WARD, ED-WARD!" they chant as he carries me up the stairs.

He takes me up to my bedroom and gently sets me down on my feet. He puts his arms around me and gives me a long, passionate kiss as I run my fingers through his hair.

"You, Isabella Swan, are a naughty, naughty girl," he says into my ear with a deep husky voice. I get chills. He gently bites my earlobe and I get goose bumps all over.

_Is it me or is really, really hot in here?_

"And what happens to naughty girls?" I ask in a whisper, purring softly. I trace the tip of my index finger along the side of his face.

He lightly swats my backside. I gasp in a mixture of mild surprise and unexpected excitement.

_Oh I've been bad. So very very bad._

He swats me again, grinning at me devilishly.

"Edward Cullen!" I gasp. I turn and run, squealing in feigned fright. He chases me around the room and catches me from behind, winding his arms tightly around my waist and planting eager kisses on my neck.

"OK, OK, I learned my lesson," I say, giggling from his breath tickling me.

"Oh, you think so huh?" he says in low growl, biting my neck.

His hands are effortlessly undoing the buttons on my peasant blouse and he eases it down off me.

"Edward," I say with a sigh, turning around to look at his face. I can't resist kissing his delicious lips and taking in that scent of his that I love so much.

"Mmm, my beautiful Bella," he murmurs as he runs his hand up and down my abdomen.

"Come here, you!" I say playfully, grabbing his shirt and helping him pull it up over his head.

_Sigh. I could look at that bare chest all day. It never gets old._

His boxers peek out from under his loose trousers—black with little white vampire bats all over them—a gift from me for Christmas.

He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. Gently lowering me onto the bed, he lies on top of me. It's almost indescribable the way it makes me feel when we lie like this. I love the weight of his strong body on top of mine, to feel his muscles flex and relax as he moves, to wrap my arms and legs around him while he rests his head on my shoulder, spent from our lovemaking. I feel safe, loved and wanted.

Edward gently strips off the last of my clothing and softly kisses my leg, starting from my ankle, to my calf, to my thigh. He then focuses his kissing on the very warm and wet patch between my legs.

_I love dessert. Dessert is WIN._

It doesn't take very long for his tongue to work its magic and soon I'm in the throes of ecstasy, moaning his name.

I reach forward and pull his body up so he can be on top of me again. I run my hands up and down his muscular back, whispering "I want you, I need you," in a hushed voice.

"God, Bella, you are everything to me," he whispers as he slowly enters me.

"And you are to me, Edward," I murmur, holding his face in my hands.

Rocking my hips against his, his pace quickens and we both begin to pant. I put my hands on his beautifully sculpted ass, urging him to go faster and deeper. I feel more heat rising inside me. My whole body tingles, then tenses up, before the heat erupts in waves.

"Bella," Edward groans plaintively as he cums inside me. He leans his head down, resting it on my collarbone. I gently stroke his cheek as we fall asleep with our bodies still entwined.

I wake up the next morning to the sensation of someone softly kissing my neck and caressing my stomach.

"Is that you Brad Pitt? You better be careful, my boyfriend might catch you," I joke.

Edward growls.

"Love, I'm absolutely hung over. I need a shower, some Tylenol and an IV filled with coffee," I say, feeling the effects of my beer chugging from the night before.

"Hmm, I was thinking I needed the same things. I'll get the shower ready," he offers.

"That is so green of you, wanting to conserve water Edward," I reply with a laugh.

"Hey, it's all about reducing your carbon footprint," he says with a chuckle.

_And it's all about me gawking at you naked and wet in the shower._

We go back to my bedroom after showering and while trying to get dressed, we become…a little distracted. Edward starts kissing my neck and all hope is lost. We lie down on my bed and take our time exploring each other's bodies, making love slowly and softly.

_Hot and heavy, soft and slow, Edward is like the Burger King of sex—have it your way, and it's always yummy._

As I get breakfast ready, Edward comes into the kitchen with a mischievous grin on his face.

_What are you up to Cullen?_

"I know Valentine's Day isn't until tomorrow, but I really wanted to give you this," he says, handing me a neatly wrapped box with a big red bow on it.

"Aw, Edward, you spoil me rotten! I could've waited one more day," I say with a smile.

"Well, maybe you could, but I couldn't," he answers with a laugh. "Go ahead, open it," he urges.

I tear away the bow and wrapping paper and there's a book inside—a very old book. It's a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ printed in 1835 but it's in remarkably good condition.

"Edward," I say, my face beaming. "I love it!" I add, giving him a kiss.

"Well, your copy is getting pretty beat up," he jokes. "I thought I'd upgrade it for you," he adds with that devilish smile.

_Only you would buy me a book too valuable to actually read._

I approach Professor Crypt Keeper's desk and drop down the 10 page paper that's due today. I have another literary theory class with him this semester. Creepy James is also in my class…again.

As I turn around to walk back to my seat, Creepy James' eyes are fixed on me as usual. I'm taken aback as I think to myself that James might actually be quite handsome if he weren't so strange and scary. He has long blond hair that he wears in a pony tail, piercing blue eyes and features that are chiseled, like they were carved from marble. He always wears a black motorcycle jacket over a t-shirt and ripped jeans.

He sneers at me and a silently cringe.

When I got home from class the other day, I went into my bedroom to find a note taped to the outside of my window. It said "Hi Bella" in the same handwriting as the note I found in my backpack last semester. I don't dare tell Edward because I know how he'll react.

_He'll go absolutely bat shit crazy and beat that guy senseless. Then he'll get expelled, probably arrested, and can kiss med school goodbye._

I'm just getting dinner ready for Edward and myself when Alice comes in to say goodbye.

"Bella, we're about ready to head out. Listen, if you guys feel like it, just come up and meet us tomorrow morning. The place we rented has plenty of space," she says.

"Thanks sweetie but we'll probably just stick around here, maybe go out for dinner. Although with Edward, you never know. I bet he has something up his sleeve," I reply with a smile.

"Alright well if you change your mind, I emailed you the address," she says, almost insistent.

"Thanks Alice. Have a good trip," I say, giving her a warm hug.

After dinner, Edward and I are on the couch watching Monty Python on DVD when we hear a car screech its brakes outside. We get up to look out the window and there's a car in front of the house that's gotten up on the curb. There is a lot of damage to the car's front end; it looks dented and crumpled in numerous places.

Someone stumbles out—a woman. She can hardly walk and she looks like she's panting. It's too dark to see outside and I can't really make anything out until she reaches the glow of the porch light.

_Give me the biggest fucking break._

It's Glamazon—Tanya Denali.

Edward opens the door and we step outside. She literally collapses on him. He needs to prop her up to keep her from falling. She reeks of alcohol.

"Edward, Edward," she moans, he face streaked with tears. She is sobbing like crazy.

"Tanya, what are you doing here?" he asks, obviously surprised by her presence and the condition she's in.

"I had to come see you, to make you understand…now that Esme won't speak to Mother, I don't hear about you anymore and it's all fucked up because I fucked it up," she cries, her nose running and her face red.

"Why won't you love me Edward? Why? I only wanted you to love me," she whines through her sobs.

_I cannot fucking believe this._

It's a good thing we're standing outside because Tanya starts throwing up. I get a wet washcloth for her face and try to help her clean up but she becomes infuriated.

"Don't touch me you white trash piece of shit! You did this! This is your entire fucking fault and I hate your fucking guts!" she shouts at me.

_God, I just feel bad for you. I'm not even mad anymore._

We decide to take her inside and keep her in the bathroom in case she pukes again. She needs to use it, so we stand outside the door.

"Edward, what should we do? She can't drive in her condition. She's lucky she got all the way here from New Haven without killing herself," I say.

"We could keep her in the house until she sobers up," he suggests.

_Great, babysitting a drunk on our night alone. Perfect._

I hear Tanya banging around inside the bathroom. Edward opens the door. Tanya is splayed out on the floor, trying to snort up the cocaine that she dropped on the tile.

"Tanya, what the fuck?!?" Edward exclaims, picking her up off the floor.

"Bella, can you please clean that stuff up and make sure you flush it down the toilet or put it down the sink?" he asks. I grab some toilet tissue and get to work.

"I just want to die, Edward. I want to snort and drink and fuck until I die," Tanya sobs, her nose bleeding from what must be entirely too much cocaine. She crumples up against the wall in the middle of the hallway, sitting and crying to herself.

It's really obvious to me at this point that Tanya needs more support than we can give her.

"Edward, Tanya needs to go home—her home in Chicago. She needs to have her parents figure out how to help her," I say to him in a low voice.

He hands me his Blackberry.

"Can you please get online and book the next available flight in her name? Direct from Manchester to Chicago. Here's my wallet, just use whichever card you find in there," he asks.

He gets Tanya to her feet so he can help her sober up before taking her to the airport.

As he loads her into the Volvo, he asks me again if I'm sure I don't want to come with him.

"Edward, she is just so messed up right now. If she gets worked up by me being around her and is belligerent, they won't let her on the plane. Just help her stay calm enough to be able to board and go the hell home," I reply.

"You're right, it's probably better this way. Look, I'll only be a couple of hours. I'll get her to the security checkpoint and come right back," he says, kissing my forehead.

"I love you," I say, kissing him.

"I love you too, Bella sweetness," he replies.

I go inside and tidy up a bit before heading upstairs to check my email and read up on some blogs. It's been a long day and I can't stop yawning. I rest my head on my desk and close my eyes.

I wake with a start, having dozed off at my desk, my laptop still on. I can feel someone's gaze on me, even though I have my back to it.

"Edward, you're back," I say sleepily.

"Hi, Bella," says a deep voice that I don't immediately recognize.

I spin with a shudder, a jolt of surprise springing through me.

"James?" I gasp, half shocked, half terrified.

I can only describe the look on his face as menacing yet weirdly happy. The eerie contradiction of it makes fear rise in me with a nauseous wave.

"Bella, you know why I'm here," he says with treacherous smirk.

"No, I don't James, and you need to leave right _now_," I reply, trying my hardest to sound firm and insistent.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he says with misplaced sincerity, "I can't leave until I'm finished," he adds, smirking again.

"You see, Bella, you don't seem to fully understand what we have together—that our love is sacred," he says, with his face almost peaceful.

I am becoming terrified to my very core.

"Um, James," I say, trying so hard to smile and sound calm, "Can't we talk about this some other time? It's late," I add, silently begging him to cooperate.

"No, Bella, I've waited long enough and unfortunately I've simply run out of patience," he replies, almost apologetically.

My heart is beating wildly.

"You've tainted our love's purity over and over again despite my efforts to demonstrate how important you are to me," he says, his voice rising with anger.

"James, please, you're really scaring me, please leave," I stammer, my insides churning.

He ignores me.

"I need to teach you how important our love is, Bella. It's not going to be pleasant, but you need to understand," he says, spitting his words out in harsh barks.

His ice blue eyes gleam with furious anger as he runs his palm hard against his head. In one swift step, he is standing right over me.

"I CAN'T SEEM TO GET YOU TO UNDERSTAND, BELLLLLA!" he bellows into my face so loudly that I reflexively turn my head away from him and close my eyes.

I sit frozen in place, my mind and heart racing too fast for me to speak. I stare at the floor, my eyes wide with fear.

"LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!" he shrieks as he grabs me by my hair so hard that he lifts me out of my chair and tosses me into the wall like a rag doll. Despite putting my arms up to protect myself, I slam into my bookcase with a lot of force, my mouth hitting one of the shelves very hard. I can taste blood and my lips go numb as I crumple to the floor.

James takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself.

"Bella, why do you insist on sullying our perfect love by FUCKING another man?!" he demands, his nostrils flaring and his eyes looking crazed.

_Please God, I don't want to die. Not like this._

He roughly grabs the collar of my shirt and lifts me up. He grabs me by both shoulders and shakes me so hard my teeth rattle.

"Do you think a WEASEL like CULLEN can stop our love?!?" he shouts, his anger rising again.

_Don't you even fucking say his name from your disgusting insane mouth, you crazy fucking bastard._

The image of Edward's face in my mind helps me shake off some of my fear and I realize how critical it is that I fight. I have people I love, dreams to live out—my life is important and I need to survive.

_I am not going down like this, motherfucker!_

I turn to my bookcase and grab a heavy brass jewelry box that used to belong to my mother. I slam it as hard as I can into James' face. The glass lid smashes between my palm and his cheek. He merely grunts at the pain and bends over for a second, then puts his hand to his face and inspects the blood he finds there. His face is a mask of pure rage.

"BITCH!" he roars at me.

He clenches his hand into a tight fist, recoils his arm back and punches me on the side of my face in a glancing blow that doesn't hit me straight on. My cheek stings bitterly and soon begins to throb. The force of the punch still pushes me back and I stumble toward my door. Instinct gets me on my feet in a low crouch and I desperately try to scramble out of the room. I only make it as far as the other side of my door before James grabs a fistful of my hair and stops me.

"Bella, I'm not done yet," he says, his voice eerily calm again as he stands behind me. His hands clutch my shoulders in a steely grip.

_If I can just get to the front door…_

I make a tight fist and curl my shoulder forward. I rotate myself back as hard as I can, my elbow hitting James in the ribcage so hard that I hear the air whoosh from his lungs. I turn my head back to see him stumble back several steps and take my chance to run.

"STOP FIGHTING ME BELLA!" he screams, catching up to me at the landing of the stairs. He grabs my arm and twists me around, my back to the stairs. He punches me again, this time landing a full-on blow to my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I fall backward, tumbling down the stairs like a small stone. On the way down, my foot catches in the spokes of the railing, wrenching my ankle with a horrible _snap_ as the bone breaks.

"Do you see what you're making me do, Bella? Why can't you understand that our perfect love is simply unstoppable?" he asks with a sneer, his face still enraged.

Despite the intense pain I'm in, I manage to pull myself up, leaning most of my weight on my uninjured leg. I try to run the best I can, but I'm just too badly hurt and only get as far as the living room. James shoves me onto one of the couches. I scurry to climb over the back of it but James pulls me down backwards. I lose my balance and fall face up, landing with a sickening crash as Rosalie's glass coffee table shatters under me.

My body feels like I landed on a fire, the flames licking me all over. Pools of warm liquid collect all around and underneath me, some of them pouring down in a steady stream. I lay there, my body twisted awkwardly and unable to move.

"That's the Bella I know. My beautiful, serene little china doll that I will keep with me forever," James tells me in an almost soothing voice. He strokes my hair.

He lights a cigarette, no longer needing to occupy himself with restraining me. Taking a long drag, he puts his face close to mine.

"We'll be so happy," he says with a smile.

My breath is coming in ragged gasps. "I hate you James…I will never…_never _love you…the way…I love Edward," I stutter out with all the strength I have left.

He lets out an oddly calm exasperated sigh but says nothing. He gently takes my hand and kisses it, not letting it go. He pulls his cigarette out of his mouth and presses its glowing embers into my skin. All I can do is let out a low whine of pain.

"Oh Bella, it will all be so perfect now. All I need to do is take care of Cullen when he gets back," he says with a disgustingly satisfied grin.

_No, please._

I'm too weak to move my arms to fight or use my legs to run, but the pain is gone now as I begin to pass into a dreamy haze. Everything fades from my sight. I no longer see James or the walls and furniture around me. Conscious thought is slowly slipping from me despite how hard I try to hang on to it. I mourn the things I will never get to do with Edward, the man who I love and cherish so deeply. I feel tears roll from my stinging eyes.

_I will never be his wife._

_I will never have his children._

_I will never hold his hand when we're old and gray._

I am granted one last precious wish by the intense shock that has quieted my pain and numbed my mind—I see Edward's perfect face in front of my eyes, so close I can almost touch him. His lips mouth the word "Bella" but I can't hear it.

"I love you," I try to whisper before darkness finally pours over me like a thick black ink.


	15. To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Fifteen: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream**

"_Grace under pressure  
Cooling palm across my brow  
Eyes of an angel  
Lay me down"_

—Elbow, "Grace Under Pressure"

I'm in a kind of netherworld, an odd limbo. Time as a measurement doesn't exist. I have no surroundings because I have no awareness of the space around me.

My senses are jumbled and dull. My eyes roughly make out shapes and textures and my ears hear sounds, but none of this random sensory input amounts to anything. There's noise, lots and lots of scattered bits of noise. I sense a blinding white light, metal clanging, and wind rushing over me. I'm cold, so very cold. There are voices, lots and lots of voices—but none of them are distinct enough to understand.

I sleep. I sleep so much I lose track of when my senses are struggling to understand what's around me and when I'm dreaming.

Some dreams are very vivid. Mostly they're a never-ending stream of nightmares—a menacing face, with piercing blue eyes and lips twisted into a cruel smile. I dream that I wake suddenly in a cold sweat and scream for Edward. But some dreams, the ones that are only in sound, soothe me. Edward sings my lullaby in my ear in a soft whisper. My mom tells me she loves me and Charlie does too. Alice's light voice assures me everything will be OK.

At some point, a sound becomes more distinct in my ears. It's a continuous beep that very slowly becomes louder and louder. I gradually become aware of a strange sensation—it's something touching me. The sensation gets stronger now. It's something squeezing my arm, and its grip on me gets tight, almost too tight. It's quite uncomfortable. My throat reverberates and makes sound in response. I can control that sound now—make it louder, so loud that I open my eyes. I can't process exactly what my eyes see at first. Everything is so blindingly white.

Something emerges as my eyes adjust. It's a face— a friendly face that I don't recognize. I struggle to hear and understand the words she says.

"Hi there, Bella. I'm glad to see you open your eyes. I'm just taking your blood pressure, am I hurting you?" she asks.

I can't answer because I don't know.

"Edward," I say, no louder than a whisper.

At first I'm not exactly certain why this word is so important, but it's the only one my brain can conjure and tell my mouth to form. Then, a face appears in my mind—a very, very handsome one. He's the man I love and his name is Edward, my brain is telling me.

"He's here, hon. So is your mom," she says. I don't know how to respond because I don't know what "here" is.

"Edward," my brain insists.

"OK, hon, it's OK. See, here he is," she says.

My eyes see his face but I need to piece all of his features together so that I can be sure it's really him. I see messy bronze hair, a long nose, full lips, a square chin, a strong jaw, facial stubble, thick knitted brows and beautiful green eyes. They look so sad. The eyes are wrong. They're too sad.

"Edward," is still the only word I can say.

I see the lips curve into a small crooked smile. I know the smile. The eyes change. They're less sad now.

I feel something stroke my cheek. I reach for it weakly and look down at it. It's a beautiful hand with long fingers—Edward's hand—but it's heavily bandaged. My eyes find the other hand at his side. It's also bandaged. Both bandages are wrapped over pieces of metal and plastic.

Edward's hands—they look wrong too. The bandages don't belong and I try to figure out why and my brain realizes that he hurt his hands. Edward's injured hands are a very bad thing, my brain concludes. For some reason this triggers a feeling I can't identify at first but then I process it—a very strong distress—and then I recognize this emotion. It's panic and it gives my brain the boost it needs to completely understand.

_Edward needs full use of his hands._

I want to cry very badly but more than that, I'm desperate to push more words out of my mouth. But they only come out in garbled bits and pieces.

"hands... piano…surgeon…hands…guitar…" I spit out randomly, my lungs panting and heart racing. I'm crying now. Bad things for Edward make my chest hurt.

The friendly face talks again.

"She's very disoriented, it's making her pulse and blood pressure rise. I'll press her morphine drip," she says. I don't understand this. I try to, but sleep takes over.

"Ed—," I mutter before it all goes dark again.

_God, I have the worst fucking hangover of my life. What the hell did I drink? I feel like a cat died in my mouth. My head is killing me and my whole body aches. I need to wake up and have some very strong black coffee. What day is it? I hope I'm not late for class. Come on Bella, wake up and get your shit together. Where's Edward?_

I feel around the bed before I open my eyes. There's no Edward next to me. The bed isn't mine. This one is smaller and has railing on it. The back of my hand itches and when I scratch it, I feel something on it—tape with something hard underneath, but I can't for the life of me figure out what it is.

"Edward?" I call out with a croak, my voice hoarse and scratchy. I'm confused that he's not here and I'm in a strange bed.

I open my eyes.

"Bella?" I hear. I recognize the voice immediately. It's my mom.

_Why is she in the room?_

She's standing next to the bed now, leaning over to stroke my forehead.

"Bella, sweetie! You're awake. I was hoping you'd wake up soon," she says with a small smile. Her eyes look very, very tired but at the same time her expression is one of relief. She kisses my cheeks.

"Mom, where am I? Why are you here?" I ask. My brain is suddenly full of questions.

She sits on the edge of the bed and takes a breath before answering me.

"Sweetie, you're in the hospital. But don't panic, you're OK. You're going be fine, you just need a lot of rest to get better," she says, stroking my hand.

_Panic, why would I panic? Something bad must have happened._

Anxiety washes over me in a sudden, crashing torrent as I realize that there is a reason to panic. The last time I had a conscious thought, something bad was going to happen…to Edward.

"Oh my God, mom. Edward! Edward!" I gasp as my eyes go wide and my heart races. "Where's Edward?" I demand, my eyes desperately scanning the room.

"Bella, Bella, honey, shhh, it's OK, he's fine, look," she urges, pointing to the couch across the room. "He's right there, he's just sleeping. He's so tired, he's been up for days," she tells me, smiling at me.

I let out a long slow breath of relief. The sight of him half sitting, half laying down, his head tilted to the side and his arms crossed, is the most beautiful thing I could possibly look at right now. I can't fully describe the feeling of comfort and sheer relief it gives me.

"Bella, do you remember what happened?" my mom asks gently.

I think for a minute, trying to access something more specific than just the vague recollection that Edward was in danger.

_Why was Edward in trouble?_ I think to myself. Then I heard a voice in my mind and a chill shot through my spine.

_All I need to do is take care of Cullen when he gets back._

And then it all came back to me in a flood of images: James' sinister face, his expression wild and insane; a jewelry box breaking in my hand; my ankle getting stuck and breaking as I fall; Rosalie's glass table shattering into a thousand pieces underneath me.

"James," I murmur. It was the only word related to what I remember that I could say out loud. The rest was eliciting too much emotion, more than I had the strength to process, let alone control.

"Yes, baby," my mom says, soothing me. "A boy named James broke into your house and hurt you," she tells me, stroking my hair. I look into her eyes and nod. I remember now.

"The last thing I remember is falling on the glass table. I knew my ankle was broken and that I was bleeding. Then everything went black," I tell her as I recollect the last few moments of when I was last awake. "No, wait," I say, correcting myself. "I was in shock. I remember telling myself I was in shock. I knew I was because all of a sudden I saw Edward's face and he was saying my name only I couldn't hear him. Then I blacked out," I add.

"Bella, that _was_ Edward. He was really there. He walked in and found James standing over you," she explains.

"Oh my God, Mom, James said he was going to kill Edward!" I say, my panic rising. "Did he hurt him?" I ask.

"Baby, it's OK. Edward is fine. He just hurt his hands," she says.

_I dreamt about this—bandages and splints._

"Luckily, Alice realized during the drive to Vermont that she left her wallet at home and insisted on turning back to get it. Not long after Edward found you, the rest of your housemates showed up," she explains.

"What happened after that?" I ask.

"They took care of you until an ambulance came," my mom answers with a forced smile. I can tell she's sanitizing the information I want.

Then I remembered the night I was harassed by the drunken frat guys and how Edward reacted to them.

"Is James dead?" I asked plainly, in an odd matter-of-fact way.

My mom looked uncomfortable talking about this.

"No, he's not. But Edward…" she starts but doesn't finish. She clears her throat. "James was badly hurt. He had to be airlifted to a hospital in Boston."

"Will he come back to Dartmouth?" I ask. Again, my manner is oddly detached.

"No, sweetie. I think it's very unlikely he'll ever bother you again," she replies.

"How do you know?" I ask, still calm.

"Well, he'll no doubt be expelled for one thing and there would be criminal charges on top of that. But it doesn't look like it'll even get that far," she says.

"Tell me," I say simply.

"I was told he has a brain injury—one that won't go away," she says. I understand what she is skirting around.

_Permanent brain damage._

"Edward did that to him, didn't he?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, baby. But he was defending himself and you in your own home, he won't be in any trouble," she reassures me.

I look over at Edward. I almost can't believe he's there. The last time I was awake enough to be alert and think straight, I was sure I was dying and never seeing him again. Recalling that was bitterly painful, worse than any of the physical pain I'm in right now.

My brain is still full of questions.

"How long have I been in the hospital?" I ask.

"Today is the fifth day," she replies.

"How badly am I hurt?" I ask.

My mom looks uncomfortable again.

"Mom, how bad?" I persist.

"Sweetie, you were pretty badly hurt. You had broken glass all over you. There was a large piece in your thigh that caused a lot of blood loss. You needed an operation to repair it. You have a concussion and your ankle is broken, which is why it's in a cast," she explains.

Edward is moving. His eyes open.

_Oh my God, Edward. Love, I missed you so much._

"Bella?" he says, seeing that I'm awake.

I smile broadly. I can't wait to touch him, hug him, and kiss him. I need to make sure he's real.

"Edward!" I say, raising my arms to gesture for him to come to me.

He comes over to the bed and I'm overcome with emotion—relieved that he's OK, that I am actually seeing him again and that everything will be alright. I start to cry.

"Bella, don't cry," he says, looking uncomfortable.

"Sweetie, I need to go call your dad and tell him you're awake," my mom says, excusing herself from the room.

I get a closer look at Edward's bandages. He has splints on several fingers and I can see that his knuckles are badly cut up and bruised.

"Edward, your hands! Please tell me you didn't hurt them too badly," I say, sniffling back my tears.

"I broke some bones in my fingers and my left metacarpal is fractured. The casts are just to help the bones set. I'll be OK," he says, his expression oddly blank.

"What about piano and guitar? Can you still specialize in surgery if you want?" I ask anxiously, worried about how this will affect his future.

"Bella, it's OK. My hands shouldn't be your biggest concern right now," he replies, his face neutral.

Just then both my parents walk into the room. Poor Charlie looks exhausted.

"Hi Bells, it's good to see your eyes open," he says with a smile. "How are you feeling?" he asks, kissing my forehead.

"I'm pretty tired and my head is killing me," I reply with a weak smile.

"Mom, when can I get out of here? I'm missing classes," I say, anxious about how my grades are going to be affected.

"You don't need to worry about that sweetie, the school is obviously aware of what's going on. You'll be excused from whatever you've missed. In fact, the dean of students recommended that your grades be pass/fail this semester, but you'll still get credit for them," she explains.

"He also offered to give you a leave of absence for this semester if you need it, but you'd need an extra semester to graduate," she adds.

"I don't need to do that, Mom," I argue. Surely I won't need to miss the entire semester.

"Well, sweetie, you may want to consider taking the time off," my mom says.

"Bells, it might be a better idea if you transferred to a school closer to one of us—like UW by me or ASU near your mom," Charlie chimes in gently.

_What? They must be kidding._

I just shake my head; I can't even speak right away.

"Absolutely not," I insist. "First of all, Dartmouth is way better than either of those schools, second of all, I like it here, third of all, I'm not leaving Edward," I protest.

"Bella, it's best if you take me out of the equation," Edward says coolly.

"What?" I say, completely confused.

"I shouldn't be included in your decision," he says, looking oddly detached. "In fact, I think your parents are right. You probably should move to be closer to them," he adds.

_What planet am I on?_

"I don't understand why you guys are talking like this," I say, my voice cracking. I feel more tears coming. "Why can't I just get better and go to school like I was before?" I'm crying pretty hard now and feeling anxious.

"Bella, sweetie, don't upset yourself, please," my mom says, trying to placate me. "We can talk about you transferring another time," she adds.

"I'm not leaving Dartmouth, forget it," I choke out between sobs. "Stop saying that," I protest as my breath catches.

My heart is racing. My mom gives me some water and after a few minutes I calm down.

"I should go home and shower," Edward says. "I'll be back in a few hours," he adds. He leaves the room without kissing me goodbye.

_Maybe he's just tired. He looks exhausted._

I try to eat but I have no appetite. I'm just really thirsty. My mom tells me that I had all kinds of tubes down my throat and that's probably why it hurts so much.

My day gets brighter when Alice and Rosalie walk into my room. I'm so happy to see them—even Rosalie.

"Alice! Rosalie!" I say, perking up at the sight of my friends.

Alice runs up to me and practically jumps on top of me but stops short, not wanting to hurt me.

"Bella, you're awake! I'm so happy to see your pretty brown eyes open and looking at me," she says excitedly. "I was worried there for a little while," she adds, her face falling.

Rosalie is standing on the other side of my bed. I'm not sure but I think she might be trying to smile.

"Hey Bella," she says with a beautiful smirk, "you owe me a new coffee table," she adds, pursing her lips.

I burst out laughing. It makes me so happy to finally have someone act the way I would expect them to around me.

"Come here Rosalie," I say, extending my outstretched arms in her direction.

She gives me a hug that lasts a nanosecond.

"You had me scared too," she whispers in my ear before stepping away from me.

_Ugh, not you too, Rosalie. I thought I could depend on you!_

"Alice, can you do me the biggest favor?" I ask.

"Sure hon, anything," she answers with a sweet smile.

"Can you please help me brush my hair and fix myself up a bit?" I ask, wanting to do something normal.

"Of course," she answers.

I find a mirror on my bedside table. I'm almost sorry I picked it up. When I look at my reflection, I gasp. My right eye is purple, my lower lip is swollen with a deep cut down the middle and I have scratches all over my face.

_It's no wonder Edward can't look at me. I'm fucking hideous._

My eyes well up with tears again and I can't help but sob softly as I stare at myself in the mirror.

"Oh Bella, don't cry sweetie," Alice reassures me. "It's not as bad as you think, really," she adds, gently running a brush through my hair.

_God love you Alice but I look so beat right now I could scare the flies off shit._

"Alice, what happened when you guys came back home?" I ask, knowing my mom left out a lot of details.

"Bella," she says, looking hesitant.

"Please, Alice, I know I'm being pretty emotional at the moment but I think I have a right to know. I was there, even if I was unconscious," I insist. "And seriously, no one is acting normally around me right now and it's only making me more upset," I add.

"I know, Bella. We're just worried about how traumatized you are, that's all," she says.

"Well I can't get over it if I don't know what happened," I reply, being obstinate.

Alice sighs and nods her head. I think I finally got through to her.

"I made Emmett turn back home because I left my wallet behind. You need an ID to rent skis, and I can't go anywhere without my credit cards, so the whole weekend would've been pointless for me without my wallet.

"We got back to the house and I knew something was wrong right away. Edward's car was outside still running, with the driver's side door open. Our front door was also open. As I got closer, I saw that Edward had you in his arms. He screamed for us to call 911 and that you were bleeding badly," she recalls, talking softly.

"Alice, what did Edward do to James? You have to tell me," I ask pointedly. I remember how Edward had so effortlessly broken someone's wrist when he was angry enough.

She takes a deep breath before continuing.

"He handed you to Emmett and then went up to James, who was on the floor doubled over. He grabbed James by the shirt to stand him up and started punching him but I got distracted after that—the four of us—Em, Rose, Jas and I, we were so focused on helping you. Plus, everything was happening so fast, and obviously we were really freaked out because you were _not_ in good shape.

"When the ambulance got there, Emmett and Jasper noticed that they needed to stop Edward, but by then…I couldn't even see James' face, it was so covered in blood and already swollen. Em and Jas finally pulled Edward off of him. But it was too late. Edward had dragged James into the doorway and was slamming his head with the door—I don't know how many times. I think he broke his fingers not only from punching James, but from the force of slamming the door over and over," she says, biting her bottom lip.

We're silent for a few minutes while I take in what Alice told me. I'm sure Edward had every intention of killing James. I love him for his intense loyalty and fiercely protective nature. But I also wonder what it must feel like to lose control to that enormous an extent. James is a sick, psychotic person who couldn't tell the difference between love, obsession and violence. Someone like him is a predator by nature. Edward is logical and almost methodical in his approach to things. His need for control in all things is paramount. I almost wonder whether this whole incident will affect him more than me. Not just because of what he did to James, but also because of what he didn't do for me—protect me when I needed him.

"Thanks Alice, for telling me," I say, appreciating her willingness to be forthcoming.

My mom stays with me at the hospital, sleeping on the couch at night. Charlie returns to Forks not long after I wake up so that he can go back to work. I insist that Edward not miss any more class or lab work, so he only stops by for a little while each evening.

My face is bruised and battered and my body doesn't look much better. I'm covered in bruises, scratches and there's a long, crooked row of sutures that runs down my thigh.

My energy level is very low from losing so much blood and having numerous injuries, so my body needs time to heal. I also have to use crutches for my ankle. But day by day I make the effort to get a little bit better—first by sitting up, and then trying to stand, and finally attempting to take a step or two. I just want to go home and back to the life I had before this happened.

I can't say that I'm not traumatized by the events of that night. I'm still very jumpy and my nightmares won't stop. But I'm also strongly determined not to let this take over me. James didn't permanently break me physically and I simply won't allow him the opportunity to cripple me emotionally either.

There is one thing that is a source of sadness and frustration. It's difficult for me to appear so weak and frail in front of Edward. I feel completely pitiable, unattractive and needy. Our time together at the hospital is brief and it seems awkward—almost forced—as if we're both uncomfortable. It doesn't help that my mom is hovering around. Not to mention, this isn't exactly the best circumstances for Edward and my mom to meet. He gives me a light kiss goodbye on the forehead every night before he leaves and I can't help but feel like a feeble, burdensome invalid character straight out of 19th century novel.

Alice and Rosalie are so sweet to me, visiting everyday to chat and try to perk me up. Alice brings me the assignments I've been missing along with the books I need to do them. It feels incredibly good just to do something as normal and boring as homework. Not to mention, I'm going crazy from not having anything to interesting to keep my mind engaged.

Esme calls me at the hospital numerous times to check up on me and make sure I'm doing better. She tells me that Carlisle is in touch with the hospital doctors to make sure I'm well looked after. Talking to her always brightens my mood.

I made a deal with my parents to at least let me try to return to school. If I'm unable to keep up with the workload, I'll take the semester off and consider whether I should transfer out.

_You know, it figures that the one time my parents agree on something, it's totally idiotic and not at all what I want._

I take the dean of students' offer to be given pass/fail grades, and I'm confident I can at least pass my classes. Having done almost all the assignments Alice brought to the hospital for me, I'm actually not so far behind.

Ten days after I first opened my eyes and saw my mom, I'm released from the hospital. Being back in my house gives me a feeling of normalcy that I have craved since I opened my eyes. Just looking at the outside of the house makes me smile. My mom spends a few hours helping me get settled in at home before Edward takes her to the airport so she can go back to Phoenix.

It's my first night home and I'm so relieved to be here. Edward comes back from dropping my mom off and sits with me in the living room for a while. I take his hand and kiss it and wrap both my hands around his palm, eager to show him some small bit of affection after what seems like a very long estrangement.

"I missed you, love," I say, smiling gently at him.

"I missed you too," he replies. "You must be tired, let me take you upstairs," he adds, already getting to his feet.

"Yeah, I think I might have overdone it a little today," I say with mild resignation.

He scoops me up and carries me up the stairs. I still have trouble with my cast and considering I'm still lightheaded and always clumsy, I haven't yet mastered going up and down stairs just yet. I feel like a burdensome invalid again, not even able to get to my bedroom myself.

But it does feel good to be near Edward again. I rest my head in the crook of his neck and kiss it.

_Mmm, cinnamon and musk,_ I think to myself as I smell Edward's skin. He lies me down ever so gently on the bed, as if I'm made of eggshells. He tucks me in and kisses my forehead, about to turn and leave.

"Aren't you going to lie down next to me?" I ask, feeling awkward. "I haven't heard my lullaby in a while and I, uh, miss…being close to you," I add.

"Sure, Bella," he says, almost like he's giving in to a little kid who won't stop asking for a cookie.

I rest my head on his shoulder while he hums to me. As I drift off, I can't shake the feeling that I'm lying next to a stranger, as if somehow a person who looked and talked just like Edward replaced the real one. This Edward was oddly out of step and felt like a plank of wood.


	16. Conscience Does Make Cowards of Us All

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter 16: ****Conscience Does Make Cowards of Us All**

"_You went back to what you knew  
So far removed from all that we went through  
And I tread a troubled track  
My odds are stacked__  
I'll go back to black…  
And life is like a pipe  
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside"_

—Amy Winehouse, "Back to Black"

I'm sitting in my favorite spot—the bench by the big window in the living room. I'm reading my dog-eared book once again, hoping it will clear my mind. I am, however, doubtful that I can truly be rid of the negativity that has been plaguing me these last few weeks.

_I almost wished I'd have listened to my parents and taken more time off._

My ankle and low energy level badly limit my mobility. I need help going anywhere that's more than ten steps away and I can't stand up for any prolonged period of time. The stairs are still not an option. I tried negotiating them once a few nights ago by trying to go up to my room on my own, but of course I lost my footing and would've taken a really bad fall had Edward not been standing behind me.

My mind drifts back to our exchange shortly afterward.

"Bella, I told you this was a bad idea," he scolded.

"I know, but I had to try, I want to take care of myself," I argued, sounding like a petulant child.

"Hopeless," he muttered under his breath as he scooped me up to carry me up the rest of the way.

_He's right. I am hopeless. _

_Hopeless, luckless, charmless…loveless._

I need to be driven to all my classes since they're too far to walk to from the house. Between Edward and my other kind and helpful housemates, we manage to work out a schedule of rides to/from wherever I need to go. I look forward to my drives with the other housemates, even Rosalie. Their company and conversation keep my spirits up and I feel like my normal ordinary self around them.

Another source of happiness for me is returning to my nightly cooking duties. Even on the nights when I'm so tired I have to sit in a chair while I prepare and cook food, it still gives me an amazing amount of comfort. Edward has been working in the lab a lot lately since midterms are upon us, so I find myself back to my old ritual of leaving him dinner in a plastic container in the fridge.

Every night for three weeks, he dutifully carries me upstairs, tucks me in, and hums to me until I fall asleep. There's no lovemaking simply because I just don't have the energy or the desire. I feel completely unattractive in the state I'm in, physically and mentally. Edward doesn't make any advances, which only confirms how I feel about myself.

_We are Ethan and Zeena Frome, living in our own little Starkfield._

And every night I make the same wish: to have the energy to keep my eyes open and my mind alert enough to talk to him—a real conversation—not pleasantries, not about school, not the fucking weather. More than that, I wish I had the courage to confront him on why he's so distant. But I'm lost in a sea of regret and guilt. I know I'm the source of this change in him—that I am so unlucky and foolish to think I could just ignore James and he'd magically evaporate. My trusting nature and stupid tendency to have no awareness of the true dangers of the world is what lead to all this.

And because of me, Edward and I exist, two bodies in the same space, but not really together.

So here I sit, reading my old beaten up book, which is now in even worse shape as my tears stain its pages, its words failing to soothe me.

I wake up today with the subtle sense that my mood was…brighter…finally. It's Friday and five weeks have passed since I came home. At last, I have the energy to move around more. The constant diet of protein and large doses of vitamins begin to give me the boost I need. Even the crutches are getting easier to use and I only have one more week until the cast comes off. My mind is in less of a haze too. I manage to finish writing a paper this afternoon with surprising quickness and the hours I spent working on it go by effortlessly.

On a whim, I call Edward on his Blackberry.

"Bella?" he answers, sounding alarmed.

"Hi, it's me, I was just calling to see what you were up to," I say, feeling foolish.

"Oh, I thought something was wrong. Do you need something?" he asks.

_Yeah, I need to be treated like I don't weigh you down like an albatross._

"No, I don't need anything," I reply, mildly irritated. "I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner. I don't really feel like cooking," I say, hoping he'll react positively.

"You could order pizza," he suggests with a hint of condescension.

"Edward, I want to leave the house. Take me or I'll hobble out myself," I threaten, now more than mildly irritated.

"Bella, I have a lot of work, but fine. I'll meet you at the house in 45 minutes," he replies, sounding too exasperated to argue with me.

_Seriously dude, curb your enthusiasm. I think a little restraint is called for, Turdward._

I hang up the phone and think of what I should wear. I look at the small porcelain dish on my night table that I use to put my jewelry in. I pick up the pendent Edward gave me for Christmas. I twirl the chain around as it hangs loosely from my hand, my mind deep in thought.

'_A Ma Vie De Coer Entier,' means 'all my heart for all my life.' Giving you my heart was the least I could do…_

When I was rushed to the hospital, my jewelry had to be removed for xrays, surgery and the like. I never put the pendent back on when my things were returned to me. I don't know why. I put the necklace back in its little dish.

There's a light tap on my open bedroom door—it's Alice, my awesome friend and confidante who seems to always know when I need her.

"Alice, thank God!" I gasp.

"What, what is it?" she asks, looking worried.

"I'm having….having…" I heave, trying to keep a straight face, "a FASHION EMERGENCY!"

At first her face is one of mild anger but it melts into a grin and she laughs her light pretty sing song laugh.

"Well, thank God I'm here!" she says with fake melodrama. Her expression changes and becomes genuinely serious. "OK, you really do need help, for real. Those sweats are making me want to light your entire closet on fire," she says, only half jokingly.

"I know but sweats are the only thing that fit comfortably over this stupid cast," I insist. "Would you believe I'm actually sick of wearing them?" I confess.

"Bella, have you learned nothing from me?" she asks in mock frustration. "You have all these cute skirts I made you buy! You can wear one over your cast and not look like a downtrodden hausfrau," she says, poking fun at me.

"Gee thanks Alice you always know just what to say. But really, you don't have to sugarcoat it, I can handle it," I say sarcastically, laughing nonetheless.

"Wait a minute, hang on. Do you realize what you just did, not once but twice?" she asks, her face bright.

"Uh," I say, a little befuddled. I shift my eyes back and forth. "I didn't fart, did I?" I ask, feeling goofy.

She laughs and I laugh with her.

"Bella, you dork. You made a joke! You made two jokes! Actually, three, if you count the stupid fart comment. And they were funny. You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to be yourself again. I missed the Bella who made me laugh all the time," her face gets a little sad. "I was worried she wasn't coming back," she adds in a soft voice.

"Aw, Alice, I'm happy to be back," I say with a smile before giving her a tight hug.

My best friend is right. I am acting more like myself. Feeling better physically is putting me in a much better frame of mind. Once my cast is off and I'm fully recuperated from the blood loss, maybe, just maybe, I can feel completely like I used to.

"OK, so what's the occasion?" Alice asks, wondering why I'm being particular about what I'm wearing. She knows I only do this when there's something special going on.

"Edward and I are going out to dinner," I reply, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Hey, that's awesome. You guys haven't had a lot of alone time lately," she says, trying to sound supportive. Alice was an extremely perceptive person, she might not articulate it in words but she was fully aware of the coolness that had fallen between Edward and me.

"Here you go, Bella. Wear this, you look so yummy in this outfit," she insists.

She's holding up my cranberry red cardigan and patchwork peasant skirt—the outfit I wore on the plane from Forks to Chicago, when a certain gentleman with beautiful long fingers slipped me a note on a cocktail napkin. I blush when I look at it.

"Why are you blushing?" she asks, slightly confused. Then, like a light bulb went off in her head, she gasps.

"You got laid in this outfit!" she exclaims, waving my clothes at me.

"Alice, you're a regular mind reader," I say sarcastically. "Do you have psychic powers too? Maybe you can tell me if I'll get lucky again if I wear it," I add with a smirk.

"Bella, I don't have to be a psychic to know those ratty sweats won't get you any man meat," she jokes back.

_Mmm, man meat. God I haven't thought about peen in forever. Peeeeen. I even like the way it sounds._

I get myself ready for dinner, putting on a little makeup and changing into my nicer clothes. I inspect myself in the mirror. My face is back to normal now, the last of my scrapes having healed already. The only physical evidence that remained of that night is my cast, the scar on my thigh and the burn mark on the back of my hand, between my thumb and index finger. I try not to look at it but it's difficult to ignore. I've had to endure putting medicated ointment on it for weeks to help it heal properly and keep it from getting infected. It will definitely leave a permanent mark.

I get to the landing of the staircase at the end of the hall and decide to try walking down the stairs by myself instead of looking for someone to help me. Tucking both crutches under the arm next to my injured leg, and use the other arm to hold the rail. I slowly hop down one stoop at a time and to my amazement, I get halfway down without breaking my neck.

Just then Edward gets home and sees me on the staircase.

"Bella, what are you doing?!" he asks, hurrying over to me and looking annoyed.

_What does it look like I'm doing?_

"I'm going down the stairs by myself. I'm alright, it's manageable," I reply, not wanting to appear careless or impulsive.

He effortlessly picks me up in one arm and takes my crutches in the other, carrying me like a toddler.

_OK this is getting absurd!_

"Edward! Stop. Seriously, this isn't necessary. You're making me feel like I'm incapable of doing anything myself," I say, wanting to be assertive but instead just sounding whiny.

"Bella, I don't have the energy to bicker right now, nor do I have the desire to see you back in the hospital, even if you're determined to put yourself there," he snaps.

I open my mouth to express my anger and frustration but think better of it. It just doesn't seem worth it to escalate this into a full blown argument. I'm finally in a better place right now and I refuse to let Edward's grumpy mood ruin it. Instead, I sigh and let the heat rising in me to ebb and dissipate.

"Where should we go?" I ask, eager to leave.

"It doesn't really matter," Edward replies distractedly. "You pick," he adds.

_You know, if you were at all interested in this, not only would you have a place picked out, you'd have made a reservation, decided what to order, brought me flowers, told me I looked beautiful and would be bouncing me out the door while trying to pretend you weren't eyeing my tits. Where is MY Edward? You're Fakeward and you suck!_

"Let's have Chinese, I haven't eaten it in ages," I reply, hoping a good meal will keep me in my happy place.

The drive to the restaurant is quiet and uncomfortable. At best, I feel like he's taking me out just to humor me, at worst I feel like he's downright pissed at having to give in to my needy demands.

When we order our meal I'm relieved that I was able to order a beer without being carded. Edward gives me a disapproving look that really makes me want to roll my eyes but I ignore him. I practically chug my drink when it arrives, impatient for the alcohol to dull my irritation. It has its intended effect, and then some.

_Thank you God for the buzz I have going. It makes it so much easier to not let Grumpward get to me._

When the waiter comes to check on us, I impulsively order a refill.

"Bella, is that really necessary?" Edward asks, clearly annoyed.

"Is it really necessary for you to act like my dad?" I snap, sounding like an obnoxious teenager. He doesn't reply but I can tell that I've only made him more indignant.

My second beer goes down faster than the first.

_Fuck I'm wasted. It's been almost two months since I've had a drink and I just chugged two beers while picking at the only meal I've had all day. Well this was stupid of me but I don't give a shit._

My inebriated state has heightened my libido like pouring gasoline on a fire. I'm so horny that I can't help checking out Edward even though I'm really irritated at him.

He's looking rather scruffy most likely because he's been too busy with school work to pay much attention to grooming. On anyone else it would look like crap but Edward makes slumming look fucking hot beyond belief.

_Jesus I'm so damn horny right now, I could crawl under this table and work my mouth on him like he jizzed diamonds—glittery, magically delicious diamonds._

He's wearing his black beanie, a navy blue v-neck military sweater with a white t-shirt under it, paired with well-worn loose drab olive green cargo pants and beat up Docs. His scruff is on the fuller side, probably a couple of days' worth of growth.

Noticing my ogling, Edward stops eating and uncomfortably looks away from me. But I'm undaunted. The alcohol has grown me an invisible pair of balls.

His beautiful profile, always a sight that makes me weak in the knees, captivates me like it always does. His low furrowed brow gives him an intense countenance that is both slightly intimidating but also incredibly masculine. In contrast, his thick eyelashes and big eyes give him an almost "pretty" quality, but it provides a flawless counterbalance. His straight nose comes to a perfect point despite its slight bump and subtle crooked angle—again, another flawless counterbalance. His mouth wateringly puckered lips, square chin and perfect chiseled jaw, more soft/hard and pretty/macho contrasts, complete this picture of the ultimate ideal man.

_Seriously, People's Sexiest Man Alive thing that they do every year ain't worth the paper it's printed on. They need to just permanently award that shit to Edward Cullen and call it a fucking day._

"We should get going," Edward says, leaving cash for the check on the table.

During the ride in the car, I get caught up in looking at Edward's profile again and I can't resist the desire that wells up in me.

_God, it's been so long. All we've done is cuddle in bed. Sometimes I get a quick peck on the lips if I'm lucky._

Impulsively, I put my hand on his thigh. He doesn't put his hand on mine. I sit there and stare at my hand as it lies there limply.

"Are you tired?" Edward asks after we arrive back home.

I know by his tone he wants me to say yes so he can take me upstairs, get me to sleep and be rid of me. I almost want to cry.

"Yeah," I mutter, resigned to being humiliated while Edward trudges up with stairs, carrying me like a sack of dirty laundry. I pretend to fluff my hair around but I'm actually using it to cover my face so he doesn't see my increasingly unhappy expression.

He puts me down in my room. I decide that some music just might lighten my mood and ease the awkward tension in the room. The sound of The Kings of Leon plays softly from my speakers.

_You  
Your sex is on fire  
And so  
Were the words to transpire  
Hot as a fever  
Rattling bones  
I could just taste it  
Taste it_

When I realize I need to undress for bed, I get a last boost of ballsy nerve from the last of the liquid courage I drank earlier.

I pull my cardigan up over my head. But I forgot to unbutton it so it's stuck around my head, caught across my eyes where it can go no higher.

"Aw fucking hell, dumb ass sweater," I sputter as my fingers clumsily try to undo the little buttons so I can free myself from being attacked by this jumbled mass of wool blend fabric.

I hear Edward sigh as I stand there, balancing on one foot, my arms hanging limply at my sides, with an inside-out sweater stuck around my eyes that's flowing down my head like some weird ornamental headdress worn by a cracked out homeless person.

_Pathetic, Bella. P to tha A to tha THETIC._

His footfalls come toward me and I feel his fingers quickly unbutton my two top buttons, finally getting me out of the sweater that I now swear I will never so much as look at again, much less wear.

I throw the sweater onto my dresser and stare dumbly at the floor. I think trying another overtly flirtatious maneuver will just bring on more calamity of my pride. I robotically remove my bra, not trying to look provocative, just offering myself to him in a completely open but entirely plain way.

_I feel about as sexy as a crustless peanut butter sandwich._

I look up Edward. His head is turned away. Even he can't stomach this.

Sitting on the bed, I peel off my skirt and lie down under the covers. I turn and face the wall so Edward doesn't have to see me, knowing I repel him.

"You can go, Edward," I say lamely as I begin to softly sob. I cover my face to muffle the sound.

I hear his footsteps go toward the door. A few seconds pass before he shuts it behind him. I'm so absorbed in my humiliation and sorrow, my crying dampens my hearing. But I could almost swear I caught him whisper "I'm so sorry, Bella sweetness," before he leaves me.

A week has passed since that awful dinner out with Edward. I still see him every night. He dutifully carries me up to bed and stays with me until I fall asleep, but at this point, I just turn my back to him and pretend to be sleeping so he'll leave. It just makes it easier on both of us. I know his stupid nightly ritual is nothing more than a foisted obligatory burden that he can't wait to finally free himself of once my cast is off.

_Once the cast is off, I'm the cast-off._

Even so, my pride can never trump the pull he has on me, and despite turning my back, I literally ache inside for him to touch me. It could be anything, a quick pat on my arm, a single stroke of my cheek, something. He never does. Not even once. He doesn't even kiss my forehead anymore. I no longer offer him anything, not physically, not emotionally.

Thankfully it's the last day of class before spring break and in the last week, my time was completely crammed with tests to take and papers to finish. The workload right before a long break was always insane, and I was never so grateful for the distraction it gave me. I'm leaving for Phoenix at the break of dawn tomorrow morning and I can't wait to get out of Dartmouth, out of New Hampshire and out of the freezing cold that's in the air and in the pit of my stomach. I want to see my mom and feel the hot sun on my face.

My cast was removed this morning and I'm finally free of the damn crutches. I seriously consider starting a bon fire just to throw them in it. But I'm also filled with dread because I know this severs the last tie I have with Edward. He doesn't have to be around me anymore.

There's a huge party tonight at Mike and Tyler's that I'm told is this huge annual event that no one misses. There will be drinking games, beer bongs, keg stands, and various other alcoholic debaucheries. I don't really want to go but Alice is insisting, telling me no one, absolutely no one, leaves Dartmouth for spring break without the worst hangover ever.

"Fine, Alice, I'll go. But I'm not getting wasted," I say, caving in to her determined insistence.

"Good! Finally. I wasn't going to let it go Bella, sorry," she says with a satisfied smirk as she picks clothing out of my closet and assembles the outfit she wants me to wear.

"I'm not wearing that," I tell her plainly.

"How come? I love this on you!" she argues.

"Because…I just don't want to," I reply lamely.

"Wear it Swan," she says, plunking my clothes onto my bed and leaving the room.

I look down at the burgundy cowl neck blouse and black capris I wore five months ago on my first date with Edward. Alice even dug out the same bra and panties I had on that night.

_I must be some kind of fucking masochist,_ I think to myself as I change into Alice's selection—right down to the bra and panties.

All the housemates walk over to Mike and Tyler's together, much like that night that Edward and I first kissed. There's that same cool distance between us, but this time the pain and sadness of it cuts me so very much deeper and I'm rapidly regretting my decision to let Alice railroad me into going to this party.

"Alright, gentleman, I hereby declare this fucker officially kicked off!" Emmett declares as he raises his very full shot glass of Patron.

There's a crowd of guys, all with shots in hand, assembled around Emmett. He is as usual, assuming the role of Partymeister and Grand Marshal of Shitfacedness. I'm a little surprised to see Edward among them. In fact while I've seen Edward drink before, I've never actually seen him do shots or anything that's meant to get a person really drunk really fast. I've seen him buzzed but never wasted.

"HERE'S TO THE BEST, FUCK ALL THE REST!" the all shout in unison.

They all pour another shot and toast again. And again. And again. I can't tell for sure but I think they do at least six or seven consecutive shots

"Dude, we're not stopping until these bitches are empty," Emmett demands as he gestures at the unopened bottles of Patron and pulls Edward back when he tries to leave this little tequila pow wow manly-man show of bravado.

I follow Alice into another room, feeling like I need to get my own drink on at this point. She hands me a Dixie cup full of red jello.

"Jello shot?" I ask, looking at her skeptically.

"Just swallow it Bella," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Come on Bella, I'm sick of staring at your lemon face all day," Rosalie chimes in, charming as usual.

I give her the hairy eyeball as I swallow the jello in one quick gulp. Alice hands me another cup. I finish that one too.

Mike walks by and hands me a Horny Virgin while giving me a quick peck on the cheek. He's too busy finishing off the Patron to stop and chat.

"Drink up Bella, don't let Dartmouth down," he jokes.

_Well we can't have that now, can we?_

An hour, four jello shots and two Virgins later, I am feeling no pain whatsoever.

"Alish, wha the heh was in the jello?" I burble before laughing hysterically.

Alice can't answer for about five minutes because she can't stop laughing.

"Bella, they have Everclear in them," she chokes out.

"Everwha?" I ask, completely plastered.

"Grrr-aiiiin al-CO-hol, you silly billy nilly willy freshy-weshy," she babbles incoherently.

"Seriously, I have no fucking idea what you just said," I reply, laughing so hard I nearly pee myself.

"Alish," I add, "I deshpirtly need to see Edward," I state firmly, wagging my index finger.

"Oh yeah? I bet yooooo dooooo!" she says, laughing.

"I don't want to see _HIM_," I clarify. "I need to have a dishcusshun with his…." I try to say but can't because of my insane laughter.

"I need to have a heart to penis with him," I choke out. "But firsht I need to pee," I add, turning on my heel and heading to the bathroom.

I waddle my way down the hall to the bathroom door. When I open it, I'm surprised to find it already occupied. I try to shut the door again quickly but what I see freezes me in place.

There's a gorgeous leggy redhead in a micro-mini hitched up to her waist, sitting on the counter with her legs spread open. I can see that she's forgone panties for the evening. Standing between her legs, his arms wrapped around her is…

"Edward?" I cry, not even really believing my eyes.

I try to run out of the house but there are people everywhere. My ankle, newly healed and free of its heavy plaster cast, is not at all stable enough to support any kind of high impact movement and it screams at me to stop bearing weight on it. I don't care.

_I knew I was getting cast-off but I didn't know it would happen like this._

Emmett grabs hold of me as I try to scurry passed him right outside the front door, my face crumpled by shock and crying. I hang off him, my ankle a throbbing burn.

"Kid, kid, what's wrong?!?" he asks.

"Please Emmett, if you love me at all, please, take me home, I'm begging you!" I sob.

Without another word, he picks me up and carries me back to the house.

"Edward, why?" I cry into Emmett's shirt over and over. I hear arguing and shouting behind me but my brain can't register anything besides the intense heartbreak I'm feeling.

Once we're inside, I quickly realize that all the alcohol I drank isn't going to stay inside me much longer.

I run to the kitchen and start emptying my stomach into the sink, still crying. I feel Alice's voice next to me as she holds my hair and rubs my back. Rosalie is at by my other side wetting a dishcloth under the cool water.

There's more arguing in the other room and I can hear it now.

"Bro, what's your fucking malfunction?" I hear Emmett say.

"Edward you can't pull your usual shit on a sweet girl like that, man—totally uncool, even for a dick like you," Jasper says heatedly.

I don't hear Edward say anything. He never has anything to say when he knows he's wrong.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_I'm going miss having the sun warm my face,_ I think as I sit on a deck chair outside my mom's house.

The week I spent in Phoenix passes in a slow, painful haze despite the comfort provided by the sun and by my mom. She knew the minute I stepped off the plane that something was out of whack. For one thing, I was insanely hung over. Coupled with the long flight and all my crying, I was a puffy eyed, dehydrated mess. She didn't pressure me to talk, thankfully. I told her the whole story eventually, when I had the strength to do it. She tried her best to cheer me up but she knew that nothing could really make it better.

I take a deep breath as I unlock the front door of 913 Meyer Lane. I dread seeing Edward. The whole situation was horrible and I almost wish I had left school when my suggested it.

All the housemates are in the living room except Edward. They're engrossed in a conversation that seems really important, judging by how serious they all look, but they immediately stop talking when they see me.

"Hi," I say to them feeling immediately uncomfortable.

"Hey Bella, good to see you back," Alice says with the most forced smile I've ever seen on her face.

"What's going on?" I demand, knowing for sure that something is really wrong.

"Sweetie, you should sit down," Alice urges politely.

"Alice, what is it?" I snap, becoming impatient.

She takes a deep breath, aware that what she's going to say isn't going to be pleasant.

"Bella, it's Edward. He moved out while we were all gone over spring break. None of us knew," she says softly. "I'm so sorry," she adds, almost as a last ditch effort to assuage the pain she knows I'm going to feel.

I stand there for a minute, staring blankly at my friends. Then I simply turn and go up the stairs to my room and shut the door. What I immediately notice next does, however, elicit a more visceral response.

Every single thing Edward had ever given me or had anything to do with him is gone. All my framed photos, my rare book, every last little forget-me-not, trinket and memento—even the pendent he'd given.

'_A Ma Vie De Coer Entier,' means 'all my heart for all my life.' Giving you my heart was the least I could do…_

I can feel my own heart literally break in two. I begin to panic from the feeling of shock and loss at having everything that ever had anything to do with Edward Cullen was ripped from me forever. I'm crying and hyperventilating.

_Oh God, please God, let it be there pleasepleaseplease just this one fucking thing._

I race to the bottom drawer of my dresser, panting and sobbing. Manically, I throw its contents all over the floor until, by the grace of God, I find what I desperately prayed was still there—Edward's t-shirt—the one he'd taken off to lend me the day he ripped mine while pulling me away from Tyler's van. I hid it so I'd never have to return it.

I hold it against my cheek, crying harder than I ever have. I cover my face with it and the smell…the smell…I can't stop crying. I lie on the floor and sob for what seems like hours, his shirt covering my face, until I'm so tired I fall asleep.


	17. Bella, Interrupted

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Seventeen: Bella, Interrupted**

"_I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind  
There was something so pleasant about that place  
Even your emotions have an echo  
In so much space  
And when you're out there  
Without care  
Yeah, I was out of touch  
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough  
I just knew too much  
Does that make me crazy?"_

—Gnarls Barkley, "Crazy"

I'm so tired. I can't sleep, no matter how hard I try. I spend every night awake in my bed with nothing but memories to keep me company.

Edward moved out around six weeks ago. Honestly, I don't really remember exactly how long it's been. Every day blends into the next and counting them is difficult when they're so indiscernible from each other.

I occupy myself with my school work and spend almost all day, every day in the library, in a quiet corner where I no know will notice me. I read, and read, and read. Losing myself in my books is the only escape from the sadness and loneliness I feel.

The hardest part of the day is at night when I try to go to sleep. My own bed has become my worst enemy. Not even buying new sheets or rearranging the furniture has helped. Too many things, emotional, beautiful, happy things, happened in this bed. And now I lie in alone, cold, and dead as a rock.

Finals have started and I can't wait for this semester to end. I am highly considering the option of leaving Dartmouth and transferring to another school in the fall. I may also just take a year off and then resume school. I haven't decided. My mind is so clouded that indecision rules every thought.

My housemates have all been extremely considerate of the difficult time I'm having. They make every effort to cheer me up, and as couples, they even refrain from showing a lot of affection toward each other lest it upset me. It doesn't even really matter. Nothing really matters. I only really have two emotional settings right now: sadness and apathy.

My feelings for Edward have become weirdly contradictory. I still love him, yet I hate him. I still desire him, yet he repulses me. I still want to see him, yet I'm relieved I haven't seen him since that night before spring break.

As the semester winds to an end, it becomes a very real possibility that I never will see him ever again. I had absolutely no closure. I didn't play even the smallest role in our break up. He controlled all of that when he decided to fool around with some slut at a party and when he simply plucked himself out of my life and vanished into thin air. As self-destructive and counterproductive as it seems, I long to see him just one last time—if for no reason at all, than to say goodbye. Even if it breaks my heart into a million more pieces, I just want to say goodbye. I just want to see his handsome face one last time.

It's late and I'm trying to study but coherent thought eludes me. I'm so exhausted that my brain just can't process anything anymore. I stare at my book and the words swim around the page.

As I sit at my desk, I close my eyes, still trying to read. I hear something and I open my eyes.

_I was dreaming. I'm so tired I don't know what the fuck is even going on anymore._

My eyes get heavy once again even though I fight as hard as I can to stay awake. I hear the same noise again. It's a car.

_That's Edward's car. I know that sound and it's the Volvo. It's outside. Bella, run outside, just run outside._

I fly down the stairs as fast as I can. The other housemates are all in their rooms either asleep or trying to study. I scramble outside just to catch a glimpse of the back of Edward's car as it leaves down the street.

Slowly ambling back up the stairs, my heart sinks at the thought of what could have been. It's just too much to bear. I reach my room where I grab Edward's t-shirt from under my pillow, my only source of solace, and put it to my face, crying into it softly.

I feel a hand pull my fingers away from my face. Dropping the shirt, I look up.

"Bella," Edward says. "Don't cry Bella, please," he murmurs as his hands hold either side of my face.

"Why are you here?" is all I can say.

"I am here to beg you to at least let me say goodbye," he says softly, his face looking broken, dejected. "I came by and left you a note, but then I saw you from my rear-view mirror as I was leaving, so I turned back," he explains.

"OK," I say dumbly, too shocked, tired, sad, elated, confused to think of anything else.

"I was so drunk that night before break. I have no excuse for putting my hands on another woman—none at all. But I swear to you, Bella, I didn't even kiss her—I swear on my mother's life I did not even kiss her. Christ, Bella, ever since I saw the way you looked at me that night, I haven't been able to sleep, to eat, I can't even look at my keyboard, let alone play it. You are everywhere—my thoughts, my music. I smell you in my clothes. When I finally do sleep, I dream of you the entire time.

"I didn't want to cause you anymore pain. I had turned back into the shell of a person I was when you met me and I couldn't make you endure it any longer. What I did to James when I should've been by your side, holding your hand at a time when I didn't even know whether or not you'd live another hour…it was the darkest moment of my life, Bella. I betrayed you. And I'm not worthy of you," he says, his eyes cast down, unable to look me in the face.

"Edward," I choke, sobbing into his chest. "I don't want to hurt anymore. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep and not have nightmares," I say.

He gently scoops me up and I take in the incredible feeling of him—his smell, the way his skin feels, the way he looks. It had been so long, my entire body reacted to being so close to him. He kisses me lightly on the lips and the taste of his mouth draws a soft low moan from deep inside me.

We lie on my bed, hugging each other as tight as we can. It's only a matter of minutes that we're both sound asleep, finally free of the emotional prison we'd kept each other in for so long.

I wake up to Edward's arms around me. I take a breath in relief at the realization that he really has come back to me, that it wasn't all a dream. But there's something else in the back of my mind, eating at me slowly. I'm so drained mentally that I don't even have the strength to work through exactly what it is that's going on in my head.

I quietly get up while he sleeps.

As I walk to the bathroom, I pass Rosalie, already dressed and ready to start her day.

"Good morning," I mumble, still sleepy.

"Hi Bella," she replies, looking at me up and down disapprovingly. It didn't surprise or offend me because she always looks at me that way.

"Bella, can I give you some advice?" she asks, not really caring if I say yes or no. "Don't let anybody treat you the way you don't want to be treated, even if he is the love of your life. No one can step on you if you don't lie down and let them," she adds, walking away without waiting for my response.

I think about her words as I wash up and brush my teeth. She is right. Now I recognize the feeling I woke up with. I'm angry. I'm really fucking angry and I'm just getting angrier. Yes, I'm happy that Edward came back to me, but what he did to me was so cruel, so callous. If I don't express these feelings they will eat away at me. I can't swallow anymore pain or bitterness or indignation. I just can't.

_I gave him everything I had, body and soul. My willingness to love him so unconditionally was trumped by his selfish need to pity himself and retreat back to the hollow, loveless existence he occupied when I met him. I'd sooner die than endure another minute of this._

_I have things to say and do before I'm finished._

I walk back into the bedroom. Edward is awake, looking at me from the bed. At this point, I can hear my blood coursing in my ears. My hands form fists of their volition.

"Good morning," he says with a smile.

_I want to knock out every one of your beautiful teeth. I hate you, Edward._

I don't smile back. I sit on the edge of the bed, next to him.

"Edward, we need to talk," I say sternly. I can feel my jaw muscles bulge in and out as I gnash my teeth.

"I know," he says, sensing my anger. He sits up, getting ready to speak. I cut him off.

"You hurt me more than anyone ever has in my entire life," I say, my eyes narrowing. "In fact, what James did to me was downright fucking pleasant in comparison," I add. I know that will get his attention.

"I know Bella, and I'm so sorry," he replies sincerely.

I'm surprised to find that his apology insults me to the core—it's a disgusting affront.

I snap inside like a dry brittle branch cracking into a hundred tiny pieces.

I come undone—I'm a jigsaw puzzle in a scrambled heap.

I cannot contain how this sudden disassembly of my mind causes me to act.

I do something to him I've never done to anyone before, ever.

I slap him across the face as hard as I can. _Crack._ My hand is throbbing.

Edward has no reaction at all. He looks down.

"Your apology is _worthless_, utterly fucking worthless. It's just meaningless fucking noise to me," I spit, my eyes wide and my lips pursed tightly.

"You gave me your heart, Edward, and then you took it back. _You took it back._ Do you even understand what that did to me?" I ask, tensely patting my chest with the flat of my palm.

"Bella, I did what I thought was best for you," he answers, a bright red handprint now forming on his cheek.

_More meaningless fucking noise._

"Oh, exactly what part do you mean was 'best for me'? Ripping me to shreds? Rendering me an emotional zombie? No wait—I know—make it impossible for me to ever love another man. That's what was best for me. Turn me into _you_!" I say with dripping sarcasm. "That's what was best—turning me into a self-centered asshole with a martyr complex," I add, pointing at him in loathsome judgment.

He just stares at me.

"That's what was best, is that right, Edward? I could live my life like you do and just _fuck_ random people. Is that what you wanted? For me to go from one nameless, faceless cock to the next and the next, it wouldn't matter. I'd have no heart to give to anyone else because _you_ destroyed it," I say, my anger at a full boil inside me.

Edward's face begins to change. My words about being with other men are obviously affecting him. His lips press together in a thin line and his jaw clenches.

"Bella, stop talking like that. Stop being crude. That's not you, that's not who you are," he says in a flat, low voice.

"YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM!" I holler, his controlling words incensing me.

"If you knew me, none of this would've happened. The 'angel/harlot' bullshit that you saw in me, it was just that—_bullshit_. You saw what you wanted to and projected it onto me. That way I could be your little puppy, led around by the nose. So when you turned your feelings on and off like a light switch, your disgusting behavior could be nicely excused as 'what was best for Bella.'

"You're a fucking coward. You could open yourself up to me so long as we were happy. But when things got hard you ran. I told you to trust me even when you couldn't trust yourself, but you didn't listen. You just ran. Even before you physically left, your soul—the thing I had coaxed out of you by giving you everything I had and loving you so much, it was long gone," I add, my eyes reduced to slits.

"What do you want me to do, Bella? Please tell me and I'll do it," he asks in a weak voice, his eyes pleading for me to stop wounding him.

"I want to feel again! I want to feel anything but numbing sadness. I want my heart to beat because it has something worthwhile to keep me alive for, not just because it has to. Can you do any of that?" I ask.

"I'll try, I swear I will," he says urgently, reaching for my hands. I pull them away.

"Don't touch me," I say flatly, my voice emotionless. "Don't touch me unless I say you can," I add, desperate to assert myself in any way possible.

"I want to feel happy again. I want to feel wanted—desirable. All those times I wished you would touch me and you wouldn't, it hurt so badly. I felt…worthless," I say. The pain is still obvious from the tone of my voice.

"Bella, please, just let me kiss your hand, I'm begging you. I want to make you feel wanted, because I do want you, so badly," he beseeches.

"No," I answer. I am resolute in my will to keep dominion over myself.

_This will never fucking happen to me ever again. I will NEVER be hurt like this again. Not by Edward, not by any man._

My body needs relief, release and redemption.

"Lie back down. Do _not_ touch me," I command sharply.

To my slight surprise, he complies.

I take my PJ bottoms off but leave on my t-shirt and bikini panties. I climb onto the bed and straddle his hips, covered only in his boxers, and run my hands up and down his torso. I lean forward, pressing my nose into the side of his neck and inhale deeply.

_I need to have that scent; I need to breathe it in so fully that I can almost taste it. I hate you._

I trace the tips of my fingers along all the beautiful, exquisite, perfect, Adonis-like features that have intoxicated me since the first second I ever saw him. I start at his brow, feeling the thick hair and brow bone under my fingers. I touch that little bump on the bridge of his nose, the one I can only see when he's close to me. My fingers gently graze across the indentation in the middle of his square chin, his five o'clock shadow scratching my skin. I study his jaw as my fingers travel along its edge. I notice the crimson handprint that still stains his cheek. I feel the delicate edges of his Adam's apple.

_How this face used to make me feel. One look from him and my entire being reacted with love, passion, and joy all at once. Damn you, it still does. I hate you._

I focus my attention on his lips. I run my fingers over the top one, lingering on the little bow in the middle. His bottom lip demands further inspection. I lean my head closer to his face so that my eyes can better take in its plump, luscious form. After a time, I close my eyes and just let my fingers lightly dance on his mouth.

_I kissed that lip so many times, and it was succulent and warm and delicious every single time. I have to, I have to feel it on my mouth. I have to._

Slowly, I ease my face closer and closer to his. He only watches me, his eyes half closed with arousal.

"I have to, I need to, I must…" I murmur.

Wanting to take in every sensation as much as possible, I press my lips to his with agonizing slowness.

_I am home. I hate you._

My kiss grows hungrier, my lips moving of their own volition. My hips start to move against him as well. My body, starved for physical pleasure for so long after having surfeited itself on Edward for months, was acting on its own.

I can feel him becoming hard under me but I'm too preoccupied with my own needs to do anything about it. The only thing that I notice is that his hardness only enhances the feeling I get from rubbing myself on him.

My tongue needs to taste him. I flick it over that lower lip, once, then again and again. He opens his mouth and I explore it before he enters mine.

_Mmmmm. This is the manna my tongue has longed for. I hate you._

My tongue dances with is, ever so gently at first but soon it moves more urgently. My hands move from either side of his face to his chest. I pull his shirt up and he takes it all the way off. Under my palms, I can feel his hard nipples call for my attention. I lower my mouth toward one and flick it with my tongue several times. Edward gasps. I put my lips over it and bite it with less than gentle pressure. He hisses at me but I feel his hardness only surge bigger under my tender flesh.

Edward has kept his hands at his sides with his palms down, heeding my command that he not touch me. He also doesn't respond to my hips with his own.

My body continues with its own course of action. Soon my brain begins its own cathartic release.

"Should I have tried this with another man, Edward? Is that what 'would've been best' for me?" I taunt. "Should another man get hard under me while I grind against him?"

His face clouds over as his brows come together in agitation.

Feeling emboldened and really not even caring anymore, I scoot myself up so that I'm straddling his chest. I slide off my shirt. I reach down to his sides and grab his hands, putting them on my breasts.

"Should another man touch my tits? Suck my nipples, Edward? Should another man put his mouth on my breast?" I ask in a snide hiss.

His jaw is clenching again, but my brain isn't done yet.

I inch up again, this time putting my knees next to his shoulders.

"Should I look down and see another man's face where yours is right now? Should he taste me on his lips, his tongue? Is that what's best?" I taunt further.

Now I see that vein form that familiar 'v' on Edward's forehead.

In the blink of eye, he reacts.

With no effort at all, he rips my string bikini panties at the sides and snatches them off me. He puts his mouth on me hungrily, lapping at me feverishly. Both his hands are on my backside, keeping me in place. I choke out a moan from pleasure but also from the sheer relief it brings me to feel him touching me like he used to.

I close my eyes and my head goes limp, falling sideways on my shoulder. I have to lean my palms against the wall in front of me.

His tongue darts in and out of me, fast and impatient. Just when I can't bear it any longer, his lips fix themselves on my aching clitoris, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it with desperate intensity. I pant as the ecstasy he's hurled me into headlong consumes me whole. He moans and the sound reverberating against me is the last nail in my coffin.

_I hate you Edward Cullen._

And I cum. I cum so hard that my moans and other pleasurable noises emerge as screams. The sensations are so intense that I clench my hands into fists and don't stop until I feel my nails break into the skin of my palms. Every single cell in my body tenses and releases, over and over.

"Edward…I…hate…you," I choke out in a desperate voice.

My body isn't finished.

I straddle his hips again, and this time his hands guide me as I impale myself on his very full, glistening erection. I drop my weight onto him, so insane with lust that I need him completely inside me as fast as possible.

_I need you. I hate you._

The suddenness of being penetrated so completely and so quickly sends a jolt up and down my spine. I arch my back and my face freezes as I whimper. Edward's hands are on my ass, insisting that I buck my hips against him. My body agrees and it complies.

My brain isn't finished.

"Should another man fuck me like this, Edward? Should another cock be inside me? Is that what's best?"

His face goes wild, his eyes becoming wide and his brow forming a dark cloud over eyes that stare daggers at me.

"Bella!" he shouts, his voice enraged.

He lifts me up with no effort at all and flips me onto my back, all the while still inside me. His hands wrap around my wrists like a vise-grip, pinning my arms by my head.

He thrusts himself into me furiously.

"You are MINE and you will ALWAYS be MINE!" he barks, punctuating each word with a fast, deep stroke into me, all the way to the hilt. "You belong to me, Bella, every single last fiber of your being and I am never giving you up, ever," he growls as he stares in to my eyes, the intensity of his glare boring holes in me.

My brain is finished.

He moves my wrists together so that he only needs one hand to hold them down. His free hand moves down to my pubic bone, where his thumb finds my once again wet and engorged clitoris. He works circles on it until I feel that all too familiar rush of heat building up inside me. I moan loudly as we both pant, our breathing coming in labored gasps from the ferocity of our lovemaking. I lock my legs around his waist.

Our eyes lock again, our faces conveying a mixture of anger, frustration, pain but also joy, relief and rapture. We will remain—however hard we tried to fight it—two halves of the same whole, now and forever.

I can stand no more.

Another feverish orgasm echoes through me and I moan wildly. My body shudders and grips Edward as he thrusts into me relentlessly.

My body is finished.

"I love you my Bella, God, I love you!" he groans between clenched teeth as he spills his cum into me in frantic spurts.

"I hate you, Edward, I hate you!" I spit out angrily, still climaxing. My eyes begin to sting and my voice cracks. "I hate…I hate…" I struggle to spit out. I'm crying now.

"I…"

"love"

"you"

"too," I choke.

He rolls us over, cradling me in his arms and kissing my tears.

The last piece of the jigsaw is in my hand, ready to be put back into place.

I break from his embrace and get out of bed, standing over him.

"If you ever, _EVER_ hurt me again, I swear to you right now, I will leave you and _never_ look back, Edward Cullen," I warn with steely resolution, shaking my fists.

_Now I'm finished._

He looks up at me with a mixture of shock and pain. With his face expressing utter sorrow, he rises out of the bed and kneels in front me—a supplicant. He presses his face to my stomach and limply puts his arms around my waist. I clutch his head in my hands and hold him against me, his whiskers scratching my bare skin. My hands find his hair, looping it around my fingers.

"Please Bella, never leave me," he begs. "I deserve whatever you do to me, just don't ever leave me, please," he entreats, his voice cracking.

I put my palm against his cheek and stroke it. I feel warm tears wet my hand.

_I've never seen Edward cry before._

"God help me Edward. I don't think I really could," I admit. "Being away from you is a pain I can't really endure," I add, desperate to console him.

"Edward, look at me. I need to see your face—I need to see your eyes, please love," I ask.

He looks up at me and I gasp. His eyes, bloodshot from crying, are the most brilliant green I'd ever seen them. They look so beautiful but so sad. My heart breaks all over again, not for me this time, but for him.

"No more pain. No more sadness, for either of us. We start over from here, please Edward. I don't want to hurt anymore. If you're in pain, I am too, and I want everything to be right again, can you do that for me?" I ask, desperate to finally be rid of this terrible chapter in my life.

His beautiful face is softening and I see that crooked smile emerging—my smile, mine. His eyes go bright again—my eyes, mine.

"Bella sweetness, I want to marry you, put babies in you, grow old with you," he says, pressing my palm to his lips and kissing it.

My face breaks into a smile of its own.

"I want you do those things, more than anything," I reply, my smile turning into a happy, light laugh.

_I can smile! I can laugh!_

"Will you be mine forever Bella, do you promise?" he asks.

"Of course, Edward. Will you be mine too?" I ask back.

"Forever," he says.

I know in my heart that the day we become officially married will come soon enough, but today is the day we've pledged to be joined together always.

Edward was keeping the things he took out of my room in the trunk of his Volvo this whole time. He couldn't bear to look at them or throw them out, so they lingered where he left them two months ago.

He brings them to me, neatly packed in a box. My eyes glow as I see my treasured possessions—my pendant, my wind up cherry pie, the framed photos of him, my rare copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. The Bettie Page photo book is there too.

"You put this away too?" I ask, holding the book up.

"Bella, I couldn't look at that book without thinking of you, you know that," he says, putting his arms around me.

I hug him back, holding him tightly against me.

"I love you, Bella sweetness," he whispers, lifting my chin to kiss me softly.

"I love you too, Edward," I whisper back.

From today on, Edward is always the first to say "I love you" though I always say it back to him. It will be an entire year before I say it to him first.


	18. Save a Horse, Ride a Cullen

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Eighteen: Save a Horse, Ride a Cullen**

"_Back to the street, back to the place,  
Back to the room where it all began, hey  
Back to the room where it all began  
'Cause it's nine in the afternoon  
Your eyes are the size of the moon  
You could 'cause you can so you do  
We're feeling so good  
Just the way that we do  
When it's nine in the afternoon"_

—Panic at the Disco, "Nine in the Afternoon"

"I just want you to be happy Bella," Edward pants, my bed shaking like crazy.

"I am happy, Edward," I pant back. "But…you…can't…hang…on…so…hard," I add, my breath truly lost as my lungs begin to burn.

"But I don't want to let go of you, Bella. Ever," he replies, his brow glistening with sweat.

"Edward if you love me, you'll let me figure it out myself," I argue as the mattress' bed springs groan and squeak wildly. "Then I'll come," I add, my breath almost a wheeze.

"As you wish," he gasps, letting go of me, finally. He gets off the bed and stands on the floor, a foot from the edge.

Now that he isn't holding my hands so tightly, I'm free to jump up and down on my bed as high as I like, and it makes me smile.

"OK, here I come," I warn.

"I love it when you come, Bella, you know that," he grins, his head ever so slightly beginning to tilt.

_Uh oh. Is he gonna…?_

Edward raises an eyebrow.

_Gahhh! Something is cocked. _

_Batten down my hatches! _

_Nooooooo…Not the pulsing proboscis…_

Edward flares his nostrils.

_GIT R DONE!!!_

With a gracefulness which normally eludes me, I lightly hop off the bed where Edward breaks my fall with his strong arms, his beautiful hands catching me by the hips.

"See, I told you I could do it myself," I say, smiling at him.

"I'm too distracted to argue with you, Bella," he answers, kissing my neck and letting his hands wander to my ass.

"Yeah, I noticed you watching my chest bounce up and down," I say with a chuckle.

"Mmm, beautiful bouncy Bella boobs," he murmurs, his breath hot on my neck.

My little silk camisole and matching tap shorts left little to the imagination, especially since I wasn't wearing anything underneath either of them.

We reconciled three days ago and since then we've barely left my room except to take tests. We study, eat, sleep, and um…satisfy each other. There are only a couple of final exams left for both us, and then we have an entire week with nothing to do until Commencement. Neither of us would miss Emmett and Jasper's graduation for the world.

_Well, there isn't exactly 'nothing' to do. _

_Peeeeeeeeeeeeen!_

Edward picks me up by the waist and sits on the bed with me straddling his lap. Running his fingers through my hair, he gently pulls my head back to get full access to my neck, shoulders and chest.

"I…love…you…Isabella…Marie…Swan," he says between kisses.

"I love you too," I whisper back, completely entranced by the way he's touching me.

His hands are back on my ass, urging my hips to move back and forth against him. I happily oblige. My skin begins to turn to goose flesh and my nipples stiffen under the thin film of silk that covers them. Having his hands occupied, Edward frees the skinny strap of my camisole off my shoulder with his teeth, exposing my breast.

_Dude you are like a freaking sex Houdini—how do you do that? No boob or hooha is safe from your clutches._

My thoughts are interrupted as my mind goes completely blank the second Edward's mouth is on my breast.

"Uhhnnn, Edward," I moan, holding his head in my hands.

"So beautiful, so perfect," he murmurs softly as he pulls my cami up over my head and gazes at my bare chest.

My hands, very much having a mind of their own, reach down and free him from his boxers, gently guiding him toward where I'd moved the very flimsy and loose silk of my tap pants out of the way.

"Belllllla," he groans as I ease myself down—very slowly—so that he enters me at an excruciatingly slow rate. He tries to hasten my movement by pressing my ass down toward him.

_Oh I am having none of that._

I take him by the wrists and move his hands to my breasts.

_Much better._

I steady myself by putting my hands on his shoulders and close my eyes. Edward moans and growls, slowly being tortured by having to be still underneath me and by not being able to dictate our pace.

_That's right. Who's your mommy?_

His mouth is on my breast again and I put both hands on the back of his head, my fingers laced together. I quicken my movement, wanting nothing more than to feel his strokes inside me go faster and faster.

"Edward," I pant, heaving myself up and down.

I take his face in my hands and he kisses me impatiently. I plant a trail of kisses from his mouth, across his scruffy cheek to his earlobe.

"Take me," I whisper in his ear.

With a loud growl, he turns us over, laying me flat on my back with him on top. His hands are under me, his fingers curling around the back of my shoulders so he can pump into me as hard and fast as he can. My hands run up and down his back, my nails gently raking across his skin.

_I love it when he's on top of me, inside me, laying claim to me, completing me._

His eyes drink me in, watching my face intently—the way my eyes roll up, the way my lips open as my tongue wets them before I clench my teeth and pant through my mouth. I crave relief from this exquisite torture and begin to rub circles around my clit with my finger.

"Edward…I…love…when…you're…inside…me," I murmur softly before biting my lip, knowing the effect it will have on him to watch me say it.

"Bella, God, I love to fuck you," he moans, his face taut and his jaw clenched. His eyes are still on me.

Hearing Edward talk like that to me for the first time sends me into an erotic tailspin and my entire body tingles.

_He just said fuck…while we're fucking…gaaahhh._

"Oh God, Edward, I…I…ahhhhhh!" I gasp loudly, losing my mind as I cum so hard and so fast, I almost scream my head off.

He grabs the back of my thigh, pushing my knee up to my shoulder so that he can thrust even more deeply into me. This only ignites me exponentially and I feel a second wave of heat slowly building.

"You feel so good when you cum on me," he growls in a low voice.

My eyes go wide and I have to put my hand over my mouth to muffle my yelling as I climax for a second time.

By now he's felt my muscles contracting against him for longer than he can possibly stand it. Grunts rise from deep in his chest as he still pushes into me feverishly for just a few more times. Looking right into my eyes, he cums with such intensity that his mouth falls open and his eyes half close.

"My beautiful, beautiful Bella, uhhhhhn" he groans loudly. He pants into my shoulder, spent. I stroke his hair gently.

Rolling himself over, he lies on his side next to me and we wrap our arms tightly around each other.

We lie there for a while, enjoying a blissful silence as well as the happiness it brings us just being together.

"Bella, I wish I could take back everything I did, everything I said, that hurt you," Edward tells me, stroking my shoulder as I rest my head on his chest.

"I know you do, Edward," I answer softly.

"Why are you so good to me? Why did you take me back?" he asks, still feeling an enormous sense of guilt.

I sigh before speaking.

"Because I'd rather be with you and take a chance at being happy again than refuse you and make certain I'll never be happy again," I reply. "And as bad as it got between us, it never outweighed when it was good, not by a long shot. When we were happy, nothing else mattered. I don't know how often that happens in a person's life. I doubt it's more than once," I explain, looking up at him and smiling as I brush the hair out of his eyes.

"Why did you come back?" I ask, having wondered but too scared to ask until now.

"Bella, I wanted to undo every last fucked up thing I did, I wanted to be with you every second that I wasn't here. It wasn't enough to see you but not talk to you," he confesses.

_Huh?_

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.

"I saw you almost everyday—at the library, surrounded by your books," he confesses.

"Really, you came to see me?" I ask, suddenly feeling a little less wounded by what I went through.

"Yeah," he admits sheepishly. "I'd save your spot at that back table to make sure no one else sat there and then I'd watch you settle in, to see if you were OK. Sometimes I'd leave a wildflower from outside on the table so I could watch you pick it up and look at it," he admits.

"That was you?" I ask, surprised.

_Those wildflowers were the only things that could make me smile. I thought they were just carelessly left behind by the last person who sat there—left behind, just like me. But they weren't really abandoned, and neither was I._

"Then my mom called me last week. She was really unhappy when I told her we weren't together anymore, and I know she tried talking to you a few times but you never returned her calls," he says.

_I'm sorry Esme. I couldn't bear talking to you and put your calls into voicemail whenever your number showed up on my cell._

"So she got in touch with your mom since they'd spoken a few times before when you were in the hospital. Renee told her that you probably weren't coming back to Dartmouth next year. I decided right then to try and talk with you one last time," he explains.

"But first my mom made sure to tell me I was completely 'devoid of character' and an 'irrepressible jackass' for upsetting you enough to make you leave an Ivy League education. She told me if I had any decency in me, I'd at least say goodbye or try to talk you out of leaving," he adds, looking like a kid who was just caught lying.

_I love you Esme._

"Bella, you will come back next year, won't you?" he asks, genuinely unsure.

"Of course I will! You're stuck with me now Cullen," I joke, propping my chin on his beautiful pec muscle. I absentmindedly run the tips of my fingers back and forth across the hair on the middle of his chest.

"Want to take a shower? I'll make something to eat after," I offer.

"Is it time for breakfast or lunch? Wait, didn't we eat lunch already?" I try to say, my laughter preventing me from speaking. Edward is making a ridiculous face at me, raising his eyebrow up and down and crossing his eyes, which doesn't help.

"My sexing has been so epic, it has caused a rift in the time/space continuum," he says in a deep voice, his hands gesturing wildly like an orchestra conductor.

"Yeah, says the guy whose IQ flatlines when my boobs bounce," I reply, rolling my eyes as I get out of bed and put my camisole back on.

"WOMAN!" I hear him bellow in mock anger as he picks me up and carries me under his arm like a football, running toward the bathroom.

_MEN._

Edward and I take our time in the shower. He insists on soaping me up…everywhere. The feeling of his beautiful hands and long fingers gently caressing my skin as warm water flows over us is a blissful experience second to none.

He stands behind me as he rinses all the soap off my skin. His hands move slowly, ever so slowly, first from my shoulders, down my arms, to my stomach and then up where the lightly graze over my breasts. He kisses my neck.

"Bella, I want to touch you, put my hand between your legs and feel you cum on it, can I do that, Bella?" he asks in my ear.

_Shlooper flooper flibber floo? KINKWARD GIVE BELLA BRAIN FAIL._

All I can do is sigh because my brain can't put words together at the moment.

His hand travels down my abdomen with a tortuous slowness while the other continues stroking my breast and teases my nipple now. My hips start swaying back and forth on their own.

I feel his hand make its way to the very warm and wet flesh between my legs, and his graceful fingers move as light as feathers against me. They tantalize, torment and tease me. My breast is endures its own aroused agony as he pulls my nipple with more pressure now. He nibbles my earlobe.

"Do you want to cum, Bella?" he asks, murmuring into my ear again.

_BELLA HAVE TEH DUMB._

"Uhhhhhn, yes," I whisper, my hips moving impatiently now.

"Tell me," he teases.

"Hhaaah…I want," I gasp before my words dissolve into a moan.

"You want what, Bella?" he asks, continuing to torment me.

I have a sharp intake of breath in low hiss, no longer able to contain how insane he's making me. I close my eyes and bite my bottom lip until it hurts.

"God, Edward…I want to cum!" I say through clenched teeth.

He slips his finger inside me, slowly at first and then with more speed. I whimper softly. I can feel my clit, swollen and hot, literally aching as it begs for his finger's attention.

"Edward please!" I beg, panting now.

"Cum for me, Bella," he says softly.

Finally relenting, his finger glides over my clit, once, twice, three times and the throbbing in my muscles erupts out like an earthquake.

"Gah, Edward, Ohmygodshitohmygod!!" I gasp out frantically.

I'm so overtaken by my orgasm that my legs get weak. Feeling me become unstable, Edward releases my breast and grips me by the waist. He continues stroking me until I'm finally completely spent. I turn around and hang in his arms; my body is almost completely limp.

"I take it you found that enjoyable?" he asks me with that evil smirk that always makes me unsure if I should kiss him or I should punch him.

"You're Satan, Edward," I say, trying not to laugh.

He slaps my backside before helping me towel off so I can retreat back to my room so that my blood pressure can go back to normal and my circulation can return to the rest of my body.

After my magical shower experience, we sit at the table in the kitchen enjoying the omelet I just made as Alice comes flitting into the room.

"Hi, Bella," she says to me with a smile.

"Hi Asshole," she says nonchalantly to Edward. His name was permanently changed to Asshole ever since he ended up alone in a bathroom with some random tramp and then moved out without telling her. Making any kind of major decision without her knowledge was so blasphemous to her that she really did consider it just as awful as nearly cheating on her best friend. And so she had absolutely no qualms about calling him Asshole to his face, and that's why I love her.

"Hi Alice," he replies. "Are you going to stop calling me Asshole anytime soon? I did apologize about a hundred times, and as you can see, Bella has been kind enough to take me back," he says, trying to reason with her.

"Sorry Asshole, not just yet," she replies plainly, leaving with her cup of yogurt and a spoon.

I'm trying really, really hard not to laugh.

"Well, at least she's not being like Rosalie. She doesn't call me anything, or even talk to me. She just knees me in the nuts whenever she sees me," he laments.

_And that's why I love Rosalie too._

"Bella, I know this is last minute, but would you consider coming with me to Chicago over the summer after all?" he asks, looking hopeful.

I think for a minute.

_I do really want to go. And I want to trust him—that things will be good from now on. But let's see how hard he's willing to work for it._

"I'll have to think about it, Edward. I mean, I already have my plane ticket for Seattle bought and paid for. Plus…" my voice trails off.

"Plus what? Tell me Bella," he says, pressing me.

"Well, after everything's that's happened, I'm not sure how my parents would react, Charlie especially. I was in a pretty low place, I don't think he'd want that to me happen to me again," I explain.

A slow devilish smile creeps across Edward's face.

"What?" I ask, getting very, very suspicious.

"Do you really think I haven't already apologized to your dad?" he replies with a self-satisfied smirk. "Honestly, Bella, you wound me," he says in mock pain.

_I should've known. This guy does nothing on the fly._

"You called my dad?" I ask, already knowing the answer but curious about the details.

"Yes, I did—last night after you fell asleep. I told him I didn't want to ask you to spend the summer with me unless it was OK with him. He was understandably hesitant at first but I think that he liked the fact that I made the effort to call him and say I regretted my actions and that I was sorry. Eventually he came around, saying he wanted you to do whatever made you happy," he explains.

_That's Charlie, just wanting me to be happy. Though I can't believe how quickly he was able to turn my dad around. Cullen, you are like buttah._

"And don't worry about your plane ticket. We can change around your itinerary so you can go to Forks from Chicago. I can come with you, if you like," he adds, wanting me to give in.

_Christ you're good, Edward._

"Well, what about…" I try to ask, but he interrupts me.

"I'll call your mom tonight. My mom has already brought it up to her, she seems OK with it already," he says, his face starting to resemble an extremely adorable, lonely, sweet, puppy dog.

I give him a small smile but still feeling slightly skeptical.

"What about a…" I try to ask another question, but he interrupts me again.

"You have a few options if you want to get summer job. I thought about it and talked to my mom to bounce some ideas off of her. She works with all kids of charities and foundations. If you're interested, I'm sure she could help you find something to do with literacy outreach. Or, another option is an internship in publishing—a literary journal, maybe?" he offers. "My mom plays bridge and has lunch with half of Chicago," he says with a laugh. "There _is_ someone she knows who'd hire you," he adds with a grin.

"Please, Bella?" he asks, now looking like an injured, extremely adorable, lonely, sweet, puppy dog. "I promise, the minute you feel you've made the wrong decision, I will buy you a ticket for the first flight to Seattle or Phoenix," he adds.

"OK, I'll go," I concede. "But I will hold you to that promise, Edward. Just, please don't make me have to," I say softly, looking down at my plate.

He takes my hand and kisses it.

"I won't Bella. I swear to you," he says sincerely.

We smile at each other, happy to see that things just may be returning to how good they were before that awful weekend in February. I have to hold out hope that it can happen.


	19. Bella Did a Bad, Bad Thing

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Nineteen: Bella Did a Bad, Bad Thing  
**

"_Your one vice  
Is you're too nice  
Come around now can't you see  
I want you  
All tattooed  
I want you bad  
Complete me  
Mistreat me  
Want you to be bad bad bad bad bad"_

—The Offspring, "Want You Bad"

"You're sure about this, Bella?" Edward asks me, his look one of deep concern.

"Yes, I'm really _really_ sure," I reply, determined not to even let him try to talk me out of what I want to do.

"But what if you get squeamish?" he asks, still being the overprotective man he always is.

_Bearward, you are a serious pain in the ass._

"The guy said it's really unlikely there will be any blood," I insist. "Listen, I know you're just worried but I'm a big girl, I know what I want," I add, not discouraged.

"OK, well if you're doing it then I will too. I go first," he says, still not letting it go. He hands me the black Sharpie marker and blank piece of paper that's on the counter.

"I want your initial right here," he says, pointing at the left side chest, in the exact spot my chin left a bruise all those months ago.

"You're getting a tattoo—just to see if I handle getting one? And you're trying to make me seem impulsive?" I ask, astounded at his crazy logic.

_Dude, you take overprotective and possessive to a whole new level. Sheesh._

"No, I'm getting one of your initial if you're getting one of mine," he replies.

"OK," I say, shaking my head.

I take the marker and sign a capital letter 'B' on the paper in my best cursive handwriting.

I hand him the marker. "Your turn," I say, holding a second sheet of paper out to him. He signs the most elegant capital 'E' I've ever seen.

_Typical. His initial will look like calligraphy and mine will look like a 4__th__ grader wrote it._

I'm so sick of looking at that scar on the back of my hand; I need to turn it into something positive.

"Bella, you can try to have that scar removed, you don't need to tattoo over it," Edward says, trying one last time to talk me out of it.

"I know but I don't want it gone. That would be like pretending it didn't happen, which I don't want to do. I'd rather remember, but also move passed it," I say, determined to follow through on this.

"As you wish," he says, using his typical response for whenever he finally caves on something.

_Dear Wesley, Thank you. Love, Princess Buttercup._

I really like the end result when the tattoo artist is done. He created a very pretty, lightly etched heart behind Edward's initial and it masks over the scar very nicely. It looks like a sketch without being cartoonish. Edward just has my initial inked on in plain black. I think his tattoo looks unbelievably sexy.

_Umm, Tatward. So bad, so sek-sey! I think I'm gonna like having a little somethin-somethin to look at when I go cowgirl on you. Yeehaw!_

Back at the house, I make one last dinner for the six of us. Exams are over and graduation is in a couple of days. Emmett and Jasper both have family arriving soon so this is our last night together as housemates. I'm really sad that the year has come to an end. It will be tough without Emmett and Jasper around because they were both so sweet and always looked after me, like I was a little sister. At least they're both going to graduate school in Boston, so I'm sure I'll see them often but it just won't be the same.

As for next year, I know I'll be back at Dartmouth but where exactly, I haven't decided. Edward is renting his own apartment off-campus and wants me to move in. Alice and Rosalie are also getting their own place. They offered to have me squeeze in too if I wanted because they have an extra bedroom.

Part of me doesn't think it's a bad idea to live with Alice and Rosalie. I just think that extra little space between Edward and me might actually be beneficial for us—give us each a little bit of breathing room. I wonder if we started out as 'too much too soon' and that's part of the reason why we had such a horrendous, albeit temporary, break-up.

Then again, our reconciliation definitely changed the dynamic of our relationship for the better. We've clearly left the "honeymoon phase" and have moved on to something much deeper and significant. I just can't imagine my life without Edward, and he's been spending the last week tirelessly trying to prove to me that he feels the same way.

I think I'll see how the summer goes and then decide.

As I set the table, Edward is putting some cleaning supplies away in the broom closet.

"Bathroom?" I ask.

"Yep. Emmett and Jasper are making me do all the year end clean up because they're still pissed at me. Do you have any idea what it's like to clean a toilet that Emmett's been using for nine months?" he asks, almost ready to barf.

_Oh Emmett, you are my hero._

"Aw, love…I wish I could say I feel sorry," I say, beginning to chuckle, "But I don't," I add, snorting.

"I need to take a shower and have my memory of the last hour of my life erased from my brain," Edward says, hanging down his head as he furiously scrubs his hands in the sink.

"Hmm," I say, thinking out loud. "You know, I have dinner warm in the oven but no one seems to be home just yet except the two of us. Maybe I can…help you get cleaned up?" I ask, licking my lips. Edward knows damn well I don't lick my lips unless my tongue _badly_ needs to taste something—him.

"Woman," he says in a low growl, looking at me through those thick brows, his eyes roving all of me.

"Man?" I say, raising my eyebrow and biting my lip.

He takes two giant strides and is nose to nose with me. I feel his hot breath on my face.

"Would the gentleman like an appetizer before dinner?" I purr, cocking my head to the side, a mischievous smile creeping slowly across my face.

_Coffee, tea, or me? I'll give you a hint—choose me._

"Bella," he growls. He's warning me not to play with him like this. "I will bend you over this table, do not tempt me," he threatens, his voice deep.

_Promises, promises._

"Hmm," I say, pouting. "I just want to see what my tattoo looks like with your cock in my hand," I add, playing with matches over an open powder keg.

_Oopsy doodles._

That was it. I pulled the pin from the grenade like I wanted to.

He groans and in one motion, picks me up by my backside and presses me into him, less than gently. I wrap my legs around his waist, my hips grinding against him of their own accord—his arousal is already hard like granite. My stiff nipples press against his beautifully muscled chest. He kisses me feverishly and I moan into his mouth.

His hands grip me tighter as he carries me down the hall into the bathroom. Locking the door first, Edward quickly turns the water on. We practically rip our clothes off each other as we wait for the shower to warm up.

"Edward, how about…I make you clean," I manage to gasp out between devouring kisses, "but first you make me…_dirty_," I say through clenched teeth.

_Caveward, Bella want to play._

And just like that, my foot catches on the trip wire, just like it was supposed to.

"Belllla," he growls, his lips curled.

_Yay! I mean…Uh oh._

Edward does what he warned me he'd do. He spins me around, putting my back to him. His hands press my shoulders down into the bathroom counter and I lean on it with my forearms with my head facing down. Then he literally lifts my hips up, my feet briefly off the floor, to position me quickly and roughly.

With a loud angry growl, he pounds into me. The mixture of very slight pain and intense pleasure from him filling me so completely makes me scream out loud. His thrusts are harder and faster than I've ever felt them and his fingers dig into my hips. His breaths come in furious pants and he growls and hisses intermittently. Never has Edward been this completely out of his mind with me.

I lift my head up and realize that I'm facing a mirror. The sight of the two of us makes my head spin. My hair is a wild mess around my head and my expression is glazed over as pants pass through my clenched teeth and pursed lips. Almost afraid to look, I raise my eyes up higher and fix them on Edward.

_Christ he looks like an animal. A gorgeous, insatiable, sex-crazed, fuck-hungry animal._

His eyes bore into my soul as he looks into the mirror with me. His head is tilted downward, his brow knitted and his forehead creased with an intensity that gives him an almost menacing look. His head bobs sideways slightly with each stroke into me, the rawness of it making him lose himself with lust. With his lips in a tight curl, his nostrils flare with his breathing. I can see his bare teeth as his jaw muscles flex to the rhythm of his thrusts. His chest glistens with sweat and seeing him so insane, taking me so wildly with my initial on his chest is an image that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life.

_My man is straight up FUCKING me. Good God. No wait—thank you, God._

The newness of this—how raw and intense it is, makes me feel like my insides are on fire. His thrusting and the angle his strokes are hitting completely overtake me—it's never, ever felt like this before.

"You like this Bella, you like me banging you? I think you do," he says in that same low growl as his gaze into the mirror never moves and his lips turn into that crooked smile—he's a demon and he knows it.

All I can do is moan in response. I can't speak at the moment.

One of his hands moves from my hip to the hair on the back of my head. He loops it around his fingers and gently pulls it, tilting me head back and arching my back. This changes my position ever so slightly and I can feel his rock hard shaft press roughly against me from inside, and it strokes against…

_Holy holy holy…I think that's my, my, my…_

"AH, AH, AH, EDWARD, FUUUUCK!" I holler, not caring that I usually never swear in front of him.

…_G-spot._

My entire body spasms at once, almost instantly. White hot waves crash through me and I don't know how many times they emanate from my core. My muscles clench around Edwards thickness harder and tighter than they ever have before. All I can do now is moan and rest my head on the counter, my eyes closed and my mouth slack.

"Mine, mine, mine," he grunts as he pushes into me, his pace never slowing down.

He lowers himself so that his torso is on my back. I feel his rough stubbly cheek as he rubs it against mine. His grunts come fast now as he starts to climax.

"Love to _fuck_ my Bella," he groans in a deep, low tone into my ear. Then he lowers his head, puts his mouth on my shoulder and bites me, grunting loudly. I feel him twitch inside me over and over as his cum fills me.

With a long exhale, he collapses his full weight on top of me, sweating and struggling to catch his breath.

"Eh…d…ward," I gasp, breathless. "What the hell was that?" is all I can say.

"That was the best quickie I've ever had is what it was," he replies, still panting.

"Christ, I love you Bella. I mean, in so many different ways. That was me loving you like you were the most intense drug I've been craving all my life—one made just for me," he adds, standing up and lifting me so I can stand up with his arms wrapped around me. I couldn't support my own weight right now if my life depended on it. I look into those deep green eyes and I melt all over again.

"I love you, too Edward, also in a million different ways. Although that right there is probably in my top ten favorites," I reply with a laugh.

We stand in the shower, holding each other as the warm water pours over us. Edward lovingly and gently soaps and rinses my body. I see what he means now about the different types of love. This is my tender Edward, who doted on me and lavished me with gifts, some of monetary value, like his family heirloom earrings and some not, like the song he wrote—but they were all priceless to me. Finished with our washing up, we get toweled off and dress.

Our timing was perfect because just as we were exiting the bathroom, the rest of the housemates arrive, their voices and footfalls creating a happy clatter that I will miss a lot. Alice is her usual wonderfully buoyant self, with Jasper carrying her dainty body in a piggy back as she laughs and kisses his cheek. Rosalie walks in with her usual sultry sway, looking as bored as she always does. Poor Emmett trails behind her, his arms full of shopping bags and packages, looking contrite about whatever small offense he'd committed that set off his girlfriend.

"Rosie, baby, we had to leave the mall sooner or later. I didn't mean to rush you. Come on don't be like that," Emmett grovels as Rosalie turns her back and pouts.

Jasper sets down Alice, plopping her down on the couch with a soft bounce. She dissolves into peels of laughter like a little kid.

"You're looking sad, Bella sweetness," Edward says into my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Yeah, I'm feeling sad," I say softly. "I know we'll all be seeing each other next year, but I'll miss _this_," I say, looking at my four closest friends as they laugh, kiss, sigh, grovel and chatter. I'd never had more than one or two close friends. I usually just kept my friendships at the acquaintance level. This was different from how I used to share my life with other people, and the effect it had on me was profound.

_I never had such close friends before._

Alice's never-ending faith in destiny and bright futures kept me from falling into an abyss of sadness after what happened in February. Rosalie with her non-existent tolerance for others and her no-nonsense approach to everything served as an example to me after all. I never would've confronted Edward to correct the uneven balance of my relationship with him had she not spurred me on. Jasper always knew exactly what I was thinking and always had the right words to say. He gave me the wisdom I needed to see through Tanya and not be intimidated by her. And Emmett, lovable Emmett—along with Jasper, he'll always be the big brother I never had. He immediately acted on finding the frat guys who very nearly did something horrible to me. Emmett was my savior the night I found Edward with another woman in his arms. He carried me home when my frail ankle and broken heart prevented me from moving.

_They were always there for me and I'll always cherish them for it._

Noticing my wistful expression and sad watery eyes, Edward envelopes me in a hug and I lean my head on his shoulder. He strokes my cheek and kisses the top of my head.

"We'll make new memories, Bella—beautiful happy ones, I promise," he whispers into my hair.

_You always know just what to say. Clever bastard._

I look up at him and smile a little. He kisses my forehead and smiles back. I start to feel like maybe I can't wait for those new memories to happen and my mood lifts. I'm also happier realizing that Edward has managed to cheer me up with just one sentence, one chaste kiss and one beautiful smile. My heart is truly mending, and looking forward is the only way for me now.

Sitting at dinner makes me forget my melancholy altogether. Emmett steals the spotlight from Jasper and Alice, constantly interrupting their dinner conversation with crude remarks and fart jokes. Not that he's the only one ignoring proper table manners.

"ERRRRRRRRRHHH!" bellows Alice as the most gigantic burp rips out of her. Alice is famous at parties all over campus for her unbelievable burping prowess. It's a thing of beauty when you think about how small she is.

"That's mah WOMAN!" Jasper shouts, laughing and squeezing her shoulder.

"Alice, you put me to shame," Emmett jokes, hanging his head in mock defeat.

"Alright y'all—who's ready to tie one on for old time's sake?" Jasper asks. "End of the year party at Newton's—every one of y'all are comin—even you, baby sister," he says, looking at me and winking. He calls me 'baby sister' when he really wants something.

_Like you even have to try that hard Jas. No one can resist those eyes!_

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it. If I'm not there, who's going to drink you all under the table," I say jokingly. I am easily the lightweight of this bunch. Even Alice has a higher alcohol tolerance than me. They all start laughing.

After dinner, I'm in my room with Alice and Rosalie trying to motivate myself to get ready. I know the two of them are going to harass me if I don't pick out something they deem "luscious." I hardly notice when Alice flits out of the room and back in again.

"Bella," she says, "This is for you," she tells me as she hands me a wrapped box with a bow on it.

"Think of it as a 'you survived your freshman year at Dartmouth' gift, from me and Rose," she adds with a cute smile.

"Alice, this is so nice of you guys," I say, smiling at them.

I tear off the paper and open the box. It's a beautiful top and a pair of designer jeans. The blouse is a silk jewel tone blue color with short ruffled sleeves and small gathered ruffles along the buttons on the front. The jeans are a low-waist, 'skinny' style with tightly tapered legs. I know this brand isn't cheap; I'd never be able to buy a pair for myself.

"Guys, this is way too extravagant, I can't accept this," I say, feeling like they went a little overboard.

"Bella, my dad is a VP at Kodak in Rochester. He won't even notice this on my credit card compared to what I spend on myself, trust me," Rosalie says with a smirk.

"I am not taking that gift back, don't be silly," Alice says. "Please, considering what you wear on a daily basis, this was an act of humanitarianism. It's like a UN relief mission," she jokes, elbowing me in the ribs.

"Just wear it Bella," Rosalie orders.

I try on the outfit and Rosalie's perfect eye for dressing people is, once again, flawless. The top is so pretty and feminine. It gently hugs my body without being tight and accentuates my bust. The jeans are a perfect fit and snug but in a flattering way.

_Baby got back!_

We make our way to Mike and Tyler's and the atmosphere is awesome. Everyone's so happy to be done with school—the seniors especially. We all embrace the time-honored ritual of college socializing: getting shitfaced plastered. I pace myself a little better this time with the jello shots and the Horny Virgins but I still end up getting three sheets to the wind. I'm in good company though because Alice and Rosalie don't exactly hold back and the guys do their macho tequila shot pow-wow again. Edward doesn't drink nearly as much last time—I think he has one or two shots, insisting to Emmett that he needs to be sober enough to cart me home.

"Alish, have I told you lately that I love you, have I told you theresh no one else above you?" I yammer.

"I know there's no one above me, I need Jas to take me home and get himself above me before I make him drop trou right here," she warns, rather unthreateningly.

"Dude, you are sush a horn dog when you're drunk," I inform her.

"Bella I see you continuously checking out your boyfriend's ass when you think no one is looking," she says and we both laugh.

Fearing I may be in fact acting like an ass, I cut myself off from more alcohol for the night. I'm plenty drunk already, no need to pour gasoline on a fire. I decide to make the rounds and chat with friends. Some are graduating and I want to say goodbye, others I won't see again until the fall.

Some time later, I am engrossed in a conversation with Mike. At first I didn't notice that someone approaches Edward as he stands amid a large circle of people. He looks very uncomfortable, like he needs out of there immediately and doesn't even look at the person trying to get his attention. He sees me and just starts walking toward me even though a leggy redhead is still talking to him. I can't believe it's the same girl I caught him with at the last party we went to.

It's a relief to see that he obviously doesn't want anything to do with her and is literally running to me to get away from her. But I can't help think that after Tanya, the harem hoochies at every party, and now this bitch, I need a game plan for how I deal with these situations. I'll be damned if I let them eat away at my confidence. I literally feel my temper snap and then disappear like a puff of smoke.

_Edward is gorgeous and charming, he'll always be gorgeous and charming, and there will always be women gravitating toward him. I can take it or leave it. Fuck that noise, I'm gonna take it and then cram it back where it came from. Nobody's going to make me feel like I'm not worthy of him because that is bullshit._

I grab Edward's arm and pull him back toward Pippi Skankstockings. He protests but I won't let go. I think the look on my face scares him too much to really fight back.

"Hey, you," I say, glaring at Pippi with the hatred of a thousand burning suns.

She looks at me, her face a mixture of surprise and irritation. My hand still on Edward's arm, I make sure he is facing her. I notice Alice and Rosalie, their backs to me, standing nearby.

"Don't you ever come near my man again," I say to Pippi, wagging my finger at her and glaring.

"Excuse me?" she says, annoyed by my threat.

"Stay. Away. From. My. Boyfriend.," I say slowly.

"Sweetie, you can have him. Last time I saw him here at a party, I kept trying to kiss him and he wouldn't let me. I think your boyfriend might have a little secret he's hiding from you—like that he has a boyfriend of his own, maybe?" she says with an ugly sneer.

I start laughing. Not just a little giggle. I let out a long whooping laugh and slap my thigh.

"Oh my God…Ahhh….can't…stop," I choke out.

"Alice, Alice—she thinks Edward is gay cos he wouldn't kiss her!" I say, pulling her over to me and pointing at Pippi.

"AHAHAHAHAHA," Alice bellows, laughing like crazy.

Rosalie turns and faces Pippi.

"Sweetie, don't you have an appointment at an STD clinic somewhere?" she asks snidely.

Pippi ignores her and looks me up and down condescendingly.

"Oh, so he isn't gay, he's just got really, really shitty taste," she spits venomously.

_Aiight bitch, it's on like Donkey Kong cos Imma throw down now._

Not really giving a flying fuck because I'm schnockered, I just let whatever's in my head come right out and manifest into words and actions regardless of how inappropriate.

"Let me explain something to you, you fucking hag," I say to Pippi. With one hand still holding Edward's arm, I use the other to reach right for his crotch and grab his junk.

"THIS is MINE. I _own_ it. I _work_ it. Sometimes I work it so _hard_, I can't _sit_ for a _week_," I say smugly.

"Keep your skanky ass away from him or I will break you in two," I say calmly, my eyes narrow and my jaw clenching.

"Now hit the skids!" I bark, grabbing her drink and flinging it out the open window behind me.

"You psycho!" she huffs in disbelief.

_That's ghetto psycho library nerd bitch to you, fuckface._

"Yeah, go fetch, Fido," I order, gesturing toward the window I just tossed her drink out of.

She turns and teeters away on her cheap, tacky heels.

"And go buy yourself some better fake tits!" I shout at her back.

I look at my friends and boyfriend. They're all just staring at me with a mixture of awe and subdued terror.

"What? I was mad!" I say defensively.

Alice and Rosalie start laughing their asses off.

Edward puts his arm around me and kisses my forehead.

"Bella, I need to find a new nickname for you. Bella Badass, maybe?" he says mischievously, grinning at me.

"You bet your junk, baby," I reply, dragging him out of there to take him home because I'm drunk and horny.

Walking home holding hands, Edward and I enjoy the mildly cool night air.

"So we need to start packing tomorrow," Edward says.

"Yeah, I'm just going to move most of my things into storage where I have my bathtub," I reply, referring to the gift Edward got me the first night we made love.

"Oh, about that," he says, that devilish look creeping across his face.

_What did you do, Cullen?_

"I had it shipped to my parents' house and installed in your guest bathroom," he says with a grin. "It was my mom's idea, actually. She said something about a quiet space for the summer rain. She said you'd understand," he explains.

_Oh, Esme. I miss you._

"That was really sweet of both of you," I reply, kissing his hand. "I can't wait to go to Chicago, Edward. I'm glad you talked me into coming with you," I admit, smiling brightly.

"So am I," he says, stopping and putting his arms around me. "I can't wait to go in the pool with you again. I had Alice buy you a dozen bikinis," he confesses but not the least bit sorry. He puts his hand on my cheek and gives me a long, sweet, lingering kiss. I look up into his soulful moss green eyes and twirl a lock of my hair.

"Edward, would the gentleman like a midnight snack?" I ask, licking my lips.

I don't wait for his answer. I just take off running toward the house, squealing as Edward sprints behind me, easily catching up to me and growling.


	20. Water Works

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Chapter Twenty: Water Works  
**

"_And it's you & me in the summertime we'll be hand and hand down in the park  
with a squeeze & a sigh & that twinkle in your eye  
& all the sunshine banishes the dark  
& it's you I need in the summertime  
as I turn my white skin red  
two peas from the same pod yes we are  
or have I read too much fiction?  
Is this how it happens?  
How does it happen?  
Is this how it happens?  
Now, right now"_

—The Sundays, "Summertime"

My housemates and I are all standing in front of the house saying our goodbyes. Alice and I are crying even though we'll see each other again in two and a half months. It doesn't matter, we're sad to say goodbye even for that amount of time. She's been my best friend, shoulder to cry on, style expert, and co-conspirator and I will miss not living with her should I decide to move in with Edward.

"Bye, kid," Emmett says, pulling me into a big bear hug.

"Bye…Em, be safe…I love you," I tell him.

"Love you too," he replies, smiling his kid-at-Christmas grin at me.

Edward shakes hands with Emmett and Jasper, then sees Rosalie coming toward him and instinctively turns his hips away from her, anticipating yet another knee to his groin area.

"Relax Edward, I'm just saying goodbye," she says to him, rolling her beautiful kohl-lined eyes.

She leans in for a quick hug, and then as she pulls back, knees him the groin. I guess it doesn't hurt him too badly because he just winces. The first time I saw her do that he actually collapsed onto the floor.

"That's to remind you to treat Bella well in my absence so I don't have to fly all the way from Paris in the middle of the summer just to kick you in the nuts," she explains.

"Come here, little sister," Jasper says to me, his arms out, waiting for a hug.

"Jas…thank you for taking care of me. I love you," I tell him through my sniffles.

"Aw, shit, Bella, you're tougher than you think," he replies. "And I love you too," he adds, those puppy dog eyes making me happy despite my tears.

"Bye, Rosalie," I say, standing in front of her. A hug seems awkward but my friend the shark surprises me by putting her arms around me.

"Bye, Bella," she says, "you can move in with us anytime. But don't you let Edward break your heart again. I'll kill him and then bitch slap you," she warns but smiles too.

"Bella," Alice sniffles, "you promise to call me the minute you get back to Dartmouth? God knows I'll have to take you shopping for fall clothes," she jokes and I laugh a little. At least I think she's joking.

Edward puts his arm around me and kisses my cheek. He knows this is all a little too much for me and he tries his best to keep my spirits up.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks me.

The Volvo is packed full of the things we'll need over the summer while the rest of our belongings are in storage. We'll be driving a good couple of days to get to Chicago.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I reply, smiling.

We get in the car and I turn to look out the back window, waving goodbye, not just to my friends, but to the house on Meyer Lane—the place where so many things happened that changed me and my life forever.

I became, much to my surprise, a grown-up while living there: I met the man I was fated to love forever; he broke my heart but I learned I could mend it myself; I'd gone through the trauma of coming perilously close to death but it oddly didn't hurt as much as my broken heart did; I learned how to love a man physically, while teaching Edward how to love a woman emotionally. Not to mention, my first year as a college student opened up a world of knowledge to me that I couldn't soak up fast enough.

"Bella?" Edward says, coaxing me out of my daydream.

"Yes, love, I'm listening," I reply.

"I was thinking maybe we could stop at Niagara Falls. What do you think?" he asks.

"That sounds like fun," I reply, cracking a smile. I need to look forward, I remind myself. Looking back only distracts you from what you could be enjoying right in front of you.

Edward puts his hand on my thigh and I put my hand on his.

"So, you just sort of came up with this at the spur of the moment?" I ask, feeling very skeptical all of a sudden.

"Well," he says, that devilish, beguiling smile taking my breath away, "I may have been thinking about it. You know, as a way to cheer you up," he tells me.

_So full of shit. He's had this whole thing planned out meticulously right down to where we're having dinner once we get there and what hotel we're staying at. Edward Cullen does not do 'random.'_

I stroke his cheek—it's covered in that all that stubble I love so much. He cut his hair recently and while I miss the wild spikes, I think the shorter hair suits him too. Somehow his eyes seem even more devastatingly gorgeous without all the hair pulling your focus away.

_Christ he could be bald, wearing a barrel attached to a pair of suspenders and I'd still hit. _

_From all sides. _

_Repeatedly._

It takes the better part of nine hours to get to Niagara Falls. We head straight for the hotel Edward had just been "thinking about." It's a beautiful resort that overlooks the actual falls.

We get to our room and even at night I can see how breathtaking the view is. There's floor to ceiling windows and a bathroom that could fit its own bed.

"So, how about we get some dinner?" Edward asks, putting his arms around my waist and pulling me close to him.

"You know, I was thinking about things myself," I say coyly. I bite my lip before I even realize it.

"Bella," he replies, his voice deep and low.

_Oooh, I'm getting the raised eyebrow._

"I was thinking…how about room service?" I purr suggestively, putting my hands on his shoulders.

"Sounds good to me, sweetness," he murmurs, pressing his lips softly onto the side of my neck.

_What was I talking about again?_

Edward has the uncanny ability to make my mind go utterly, completely blank. I'm blissfully unaware that he's already undone the buttons on my peasant blouse and just flicked my bra open with two fingers. I have no idea how I go from perfectly composed to ready to dry hump his leg in a matter of seconds. His lovemaking skills are beyond description. I bet he has some kind of 'love-mojo resume' no one knows about.

_Edward A. Cullen, 123 Bliss Blvd, 555-6969  
objective:  
cause multiple orgasms that make Bella go deaf and blind temporarily  
skill set:  
—magic Houdini hands with fingers that cause Bella to lose her mind  
—delicious yet difficult to identify scent that Bella is convinced is pure pheromones  
—longest, most skillful tongue Bella has ever encountered  
—impossibly gorgeous face with green eyes that make Bella think she's going to pass out  
—perfect, generously endowed peen that induces Bella  
to go cross-eyed, forget her name and find Jesus_

"Edward," I say, trying to snap out of my haze.

"Mmm?" he answers while he has one hand on my breast, the other on my butt and his mouth is leaving kisses all along my shoulder.

"Food…should…gah," I try to say but he's ever so skillfully rolling my nipple back and forth with the perfect mixture of gentle but slightly urgent.

"I'm busy right now Bella, have your brain leave me a voicemail," he jokes in a low voice, his breath on my skin positively igniting me.

_What the…?_

I realize I'm now completely topless and lying down on the enormous king sized bed in the middle of the room. I try to muster one last coherent thought.

"Edward…let's order…food," I moan, throwing my head back.

"I…want…dessert," he says, following each word with a kiss on my breast, perilously close to my nipple.

"Oh…Kay," I sigh.

_The man wants dessert, who am I to argue?_

He effortlessly peels my jeans and panties off me. Somehow I'm completely naked and Edward is still fully dressed, lying next to me.

"Bella sweetness, you have the most beautiful face and body of any woman I've seen," he says, lazily dragging his fingers back and forth across my abdomen.

_Whatever you're selling baby, I'm buying._

"Let me take my time with you, enjoying your body and making you feel good," he says, looking down at me intently.

I study his face, the soft light in the room just making him look even more dashing. That pouty bottom lip looks irresistible as my finger tip gently brushes over it. His eyes look happier than I've seen them in a long time. My thumb goes across his brow, down his temple and down to that perfect angular jaw line.

He takes my hand and kisses it.

"My turn, Bella sweetness," he murmurs softly, laying my hand down against my side.

He kisses my forehead, his lips gently pressing against my skin. His hands roam from my shoulders, to my breasts, my stomach, my hips, and back up again. He kisses my lips, his soft tongue pushing into mine. I never will get tired of the sparks I feel when he kisses me so passionately.

_God, he makes me want to melt into a puddle. A Bella puddle. A Buddle._

I can't hold back any longer. I need to touch him and feel his bare skin.

"Edward, please," I sigh, "take your shirt off," I urge, lamely pulling at his t-shirt since my brain is so distracted by what he's doing to my body. He obliges me and I rub my palms against his chest.

He leaves a trail of kisses from my neck down to my cleavage. With each kiss I feel myself getting wetter, hotter—my body aching for him.

With his hand around my breast and his face lowered over it, he looks up at me through those beautiful eyes and grins at me. I love his wicked grin-smirk and those pointy eye-teeth.

_Smugward, you kill me._

"You're gorgeous when you're turned on, Bella. God, I wish I could describe what it does to me—making you excited and wanting more. You're the only woman I've ever wanted to please more than I wanted to please myself," he admits, his face looking shy and boyish all of a sudden.

His long tongue teases my aching nipple, delicately licking it back and forth. He's looking at my face the entire time and his eyes speak to me without words and say 'you like this, don't you Bella, you like the way I play with you…' they tell me.

I close my eyes and put my slack hand over them. My mouth hangs open as I moan from this delicious torture.

"Edward," I sigh as his lips travel down to my navel, kissing it softly. I feel his whiskers scratch me as his head goes lower, lower, lower.

I feel his beautiful hand touch the wetness between my legs and I have a sharp intake of breath. The back of his middle and index fingers torment my flesh, their touch agonizingly light and gentle as he moves them up and down.

"Mmmm, please!' I whine. He knows damn well what he's doing.

He parts my thighs with his hand, spreading my legs, bent at the knees, as wide as they'll go. The torture continues with the back of his fingers teasing me and his lips kissing the insides of my thighs, alternating from one to the other…slowly, slowly, slowly.

My hand is in my hair, balled up in a fist around a bunch of it. I'm pulling my own hair because I have to take it out on something—how insane he's making me.

"Rrrr, now!" I growl, my hips squirming impatiently. I feel his shoulders shake slightly as he laughs at me.

_I don't know how, I don't know when, but you're gonna pay, Teaseward._

Finally his stroking gains more pressure as he moves his face so that it's squarely between my thighs. He uses both his hands to gently push my lips open and then…his tongue. Oh God…his tongue. Inside me…like velvet…moving in and out, lapping up the moisture there.

My breath starts heaving and there's so much tension in the muscles in the center of my body, it's like a hot ache. I move my hand from my own hair to his, urging him to move faster before his torturously slow teasing make me go out of my mind.

With the pad of his thumb, he rubs my clitoris gently. This one small part of his body—the part of his thumb with the fingerprint on it—it can't be bigger than an inch or so, but it makes me climax like I just fell off a cliff.

_Magic Thumb for teh win!_

"FUCK!" I yell before biting my lip to keep from screaming more. He's looking right at me, his low brow and green eyes so beautiful and perfect I could cry.

My orgasm just keeps going…and going. My cumming keeps going.

_Shit, Edward could get up, make himself a sandwich, eat it, come back and I'll still be cumming my head off. Dude you are ridiculous in bed. REDONKULOUS._

After grinding my hips into him for what seems like an absurd amount of time, I finally feel all the tension seep right out of me and I'm just feeling so utterly contented and loved and warm all over.

"Love you Bella," he says softly as he lies down next to me so I can put my head in my favorite spot in the crook of his neck.

"I love you too, Edward," I murmur into his collarbone.

A little while later I ease myself into the huge whirlpool bath as Edward orders food for us. I'm relaxing in the soothing warm jets of water when he comes in with a plate of food.

"How would you like to multi-task and eat while in the bath?" he asks me, smiling sweetly.

"I think that's a remarkably genius way to manage time," I say in a mock serious tone and the laugh.

"Well, you know, I have my uses," he says, raising his eyebrow slyly and looking at me like I'm really going to miss his double meaning.

_Pervward, please. You have no idea the horny things that have been running through my head since the second I first saw you._

"Hmm, useful. That's a good way to describe it. Makes it sound very…benign—almost innocent. Which, my friend, you are not," I say. "You've been playing tricks with my brain since I met you," I add, lowering my eyes and looking at him sideways.

Kneeling on the floor beside me, he picks up some fruit from the plate he brought in and offers me a grape by putting it in front of my mouth. His facial expression changes slighty. He still looks happy but also serious.

"You know, when I saw you for the first time on the green, even with that lump on your temple," he says laughing a little and kissing my shoulder, "I thought you were hands-down the prettiest girl I'd ever seen," he tells me.

I smile at him because there's no way I can resist him talking to me like this—no woman in her right mind could.

"And then I heard your voice," he says softly.

_My voice?_

I look at him curiously.

"The pitch and tone of your voice, if I listen to it with my eyes closed, I can actually see what your voice sounds like," he explains. "I've never bothered to listen to anyone's voice that closely before," he confesses.

_Stop because I'm going to cry. OK don't stop because I'm loving this. But come on dude. First the 45 minute long orgasm and now this? What are you playing at?_

"And then I held your hand. It was so soft and little inside mine," he says, taking my wet hand and stroking it with Magic Thumb. You weren't wearing nail polish or jewelry. The first thing I thought was 'she doesn't need any of that.' Because to me you felt perfect all on your own," he says, stroking my cheek with his index finger.

"Edward…" I start but the words get stuck.

I walked you home from the green and went to your bedroom. I sat with you and you shyly scooted closer and closer toward me until I could smell your hair—like wild strawberries. But it made perfect sense that even your scent would be like something so naturally beautiful," he says, his index finger tracing over my soapy arm.

I look down because my eyes are filling up and my chin is quivering.

"When I picked you up and kissed you this first time, I remember exactly how you tasted—like toothpaste. I never kissed a girl long enough or gently enough to notice that before," he says, his voice soft and rich in the quiet night air between us.

"Edward…why…" I start to ask in a shaky whisper but he interrupts me.

"Bella, for whatever reason—destiny or fate, a happy coincidence, Cupid, the right chemistry, I don't know—you made me want to pay attention to every last thing, to see you, hear you, feel you, smell you and taste you completely. I needed to know _you_ completely," he says.

I can't stop the tears now so I just quit bothering.

_I love you so much, Edward. I try to say the words aloud but they just won't come out, not unless I hear them from you first._

"If I had any sense at all, Bella, I would've known right when I met you that I was totally in love with you," he says, holding my hand. "Why I resisted that—resisted you, so many times…I can't really understand why. I should've just loved you like I was supposed to," he adds, looking guilty.

Now I feel like crying for the both of us.

"I'm not sure how I'll get over this—how I nearly ended our relationship completely, without even a goodbye. But I swear it wasn't because I stopped loving you. It was because I didn't know how to love you without ruining it, without being a selfish asshole," he says, wiping the soap off of my cheek.

_I just wish we could move passed this. Just take it for what it's worth and leave it be._

"You have to stop tormenting yourself," I say, my voice almost a whisper. "You can't keep picking at this and turning it into a wound that won't ever heal. Edward, your flaws don't change my feelings for you, because your flaws alone don't make up who you are," I say, holding his hand in mine and stroking it with my finger tips.

"There's so much to you besides your imperfections. You have some amazing traits too. When I put all of those things together, the good traits and the imperfections, that's who you are to me," I tell him, rubbing the bottom of his scruffy chin with the back of my fingers.

"I don't love you because I ignore your flaws; I love you in spite of them," I say, my eyes starting to sting again. I think that this is the first time I've ever explained to Edward why I love him.

_Maybe now he'll believe it._

I smile and look in his eyes, then look down at my soap bubbles.

"I love you, Bella," he says.

"I love you too, Edward," I reply.

Looking up again, I meet his gaze and see that all-too familiar smile and raised eyebrow that just oozes all kinds of provocative intentions. And I fall for it every time.

He cups his hands on either side of my face and gives me a long, eager kiss. I grab him by the t-shirt, pulling it over his head.

_All bets are off now, Cullen. Imma have my way with you and you're gonna like it._

I step out of the bath and hurriedly throw a bunch of clean towels on the floor, keeping my hand on the waistband of Edward's vintage trousers the whole time, like he'll run off if I don't.

"Edward, take your clothes off before I rip them off," I say, my eyes wide while I shake my head and laugh.

He laughs with me and complies without hesitation.

My hands are all over him then—his face, his chest, his shoulders, and the line of hair from his belly button to his groin. I feel how hard he is in my hand and I have to, just have to feel him in my mouth. I lower myself onto my knees and put my lips around him, working him in and out of my mouth in long slow strokes. He hisses and lets out a low groan. When his breathing gets too ragged, I stop and pull his wrist down so that he'll lower himself to the floor with me. I push him onto the pile of towels on the floor so that he's lying on his back. Straddling his hips, I lean forward so that our chests are touching. I'm still wet from the bath and he feels so warm against me. He puts his hand in the hair on the back of my head and kisses me impatiently.

I can't wait any longer and ease him inside me, moving myself up and down on top of him. The "B" tattoo on his chest glistens from the bath water I got on him—I love that he has a permanent mark on him that makes him all mine. He eyes me up and down, watching my face as I breathe harder and move faster.

_You want a little show? You got it baby._

Moving my hand down between my legs, I just so badly want to satisfy the ache I feel down there. My middle finger gets to work for me. I put my other hand on my breast, groping myself impatiently.

"Belllaaaa," Edward moans, looking at me through half-closed eyes.

"Uhh, love…mmmm, you feel so good. I love taking all of you inside me," I purr, my eyes fixed right on his.

_Two can play at this game, Teaseward._

His smoldering, hungry gaze is completely full of lust and desire. His head is lowered slightly and his mouth is half open. He has his hands on my backside, urging me to go faster.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" I ask in a breathy coy voice.

He glares at me and clenches his teeth.

"Hmmm?" I say, deliberately moving very slowly. I'm waiting for him to answer my question. I continue to touch myself while looking right at him.

"Fuck me," he growls impatiently. "Work my dick or I will bend you over and fuck you harder than I ever have before," he warns. His hands are digging into my backside now.

_Hmm, decisions, decisions. I'll take what's behind door number one._

I increase my pace now, giving Edward what he wants. I can't ever really say no to him, I never could. Desperate to see and feel his desire for me, my hips grind against him feverishly now. Stroking myself with my finger has caused my need to climax to completely overtake me. I feel everything tense up and I know it won't be long.

I lower my hand from my breast to his pec muscle, running my fingers over his tattoo. My eyes dart from his beautiful face, to my initial, back to his face and my body reacts to what my mind is thinking.

"Mine. My Edward…you…are…mine," I groan through gritted teeth as I cum and my muscles contract around him, pulsing rigorously. My body is willing his to give up control and give me what I want—his complete and utter satisfaction.

"Ah, ah, ah, BELLA," he grunts in a loud voice, his lips in a snarl and his eyes staring right through mine.

Completely spent, I literally fall over next to him on the floor. I drape my arm across his chest. I'm so tired; I can't manage much more than that.

"God, Bella, you make me a very, very happy man," Edward says with that ridiculous grin-smirk. "I love you. I always have, and I always will," he adds, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yep—same here, my love. I would add something poetic and flowery to that but your thumb stole half my brain cells about an hour and a half ago and then you screwed the rest out just now," I say in a monotone before cracking up.

"Ah yes, a thumb/screw. You're incredibly witty, Bella, for someone with no brain cells," he jokes.

_Shut up, Snarkward._

We're up the next morning, showered and dressed, ready to sightsee before heading back on our roadtrip. We head out and amble our way to one of the many observation decks that overlook the beautiful rushing waters. The power and majesty of the force of all that water against a lush natural backdrop is quite stunning and I happily snap pictures.

Edward is a few feet away from looking into the distance and daydreaming. I take my chance, like I always do, to steal a few candid shots of his profile with the falls in the background as an added bonus.

He's dressed in his usual 'oh this old thing?' style with a ratty t-shirt, black jeans and low-top Chucks. I love the way he 'under dresses' yet it looks completely perfect. Even the less than consistent shaving looks unbearably delicious on him.

Spotting my attention on him, he looks over and smiles.

"What were you thinking about?" I ask when he comes over and puts his arm around me.

"A lot of things," he says cryptically. "Mostly about you," he adds, grabbing my hand.

"Like what?" I press.

"I was thinking I want to marry you," he says nonchalantly.

_Oh yeah, I need to stop at the store for some milk, btw, wanna marry me? WTF?_

My mind goes blank.

"What?" I say, truly wondering if I should get my hearing tested.

"I want to marry you, Bella," he repeats, laughing at my disbelief.

"Oh," I reply dumbly. I just don't have anything to say because there are a million things running through my head right now and I'm trying to make sense of all of them.

I head for the nearest bench. I need to sit down.

"I was thinking this would be the perfect time to elope, Bella," he says, holding my hand in his and kissing it softly.

"No," I say, my eyes looking straight ahead.

"But Bella," he starts.

"No, Edward," I say again, turning my head toward him. "My answer for right now is 'no' and I have a few reasons," I add.

He looks disappointed and more than a little hurt.

"Please, don't take this to mean that my feelings for you aren't what they seem. It's not that at all," I explain. "It's just that we only got back together a couple of weeks ago, and before that I was in a lot of pain. Now I'm not harboring bad feelings, truly I'm not. All I'm saying is that I need time to ease back into things a little. I can't give you more than that right now," I add, hoping he understands.

He nods his head slowly but doesn't say anything. I continue explaining my thoughts to him

"But I do love you very much. In fact I love you more than anything," I say, reassuringly. I grab his hands and put them on either side of my face, my own hands holding them there.

"Before we split up, I always gave you everything I had. Well for now I need to just give you pieces bit by bit, until I'm ready to offer you more," I explain.

"Not only that, but the whole idea of making such a major decision in such a spontaneous way seems like something that's pretty out of character for both of us. You, my friend, are downright sneaky with all your little plans and details," I say with a laugh. He smiles back at me weakly. I put my arms around him and press the side of my head to his chest.

"Edward, we just don't need to rush things. Everything will happen when it's supposed to, I really believe that," I say, kissing the dimple in his square chin.

I hear Edward suck in his breath and give me an odd look.

"Isabella Swan—did you just say 'everything will happen when it's supposed to?'" he asks teasingly. "If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of sounding like Alice," he adds with a sly smile.

"Yeah well, that sneaky munchkin rubs off on people," I answer with a laugh.

"And speaking of Alice, do you know what kind of ballistic flip-out she would have if we eloped and I deprived her of the chance to plan _my_ wedding of _her_ dreams?" I ask rhetorically and laughing some more.

Edward pulls me on to his lap and puts his arms around my waist.

"You're not mad or upset at me, are you?" I ask, hoping I handled this in a way that leaves us both unscathed.

Edward takes a deep breath.

"I can't say I'm not disappointed," he admits, his finger gently grazing down my cheek. "But I completely understand your reasons, and you're right, we should take things slowly," he adds. I feel relieved to hear this.

"And when you do agree to get married, I'm going to spoil you rotten," he says, grinning at me. "No complaints about your engagement ring being too big or that you'd rather not let me take you to the South of France on our honeymoon," he adds.

"Oh alright, you twisted my arm," I joke before pulling his face toward mine for a long kiss.

We sit quietly for a while, watching the powerful rushing water crash down in a cloud of foam and mist. My mind wanders and I think about water, of all things. How it can be soothing like in a bath, or refreshing like when you drink it…but it can also be powerful and have a mind of its own when it needs to. Maybe I can be that way—giving and nurturing but at the same time, being strong when I need to.

"Bella?" Edward says, trying to get my attention.

I look at him and smile.

"I love you even though you won't marry me today," he jokes.

"I love you even though I said 'no' but you still love me," I joke back, smiling sheepishly.

"Should we make our way to Chicago now?" he asks.

"Let's do it," I reply.

After what seems like an endless amount of driving, we finally get to our destination. It's near dinner time and I can't wait to see Esme and Carlisle again.

Esme opens the front door and greets us with hugs and kisses. I lose my composure and hurl myself into her open arms and immediately tear up. I really thought I'd never see her again, and her serene smile in front of me now just overwhelms me.

"Bella, dear, I have missed you," she says, patting my back.

"Esme, I'm sorry I didn't call or anything, I'm so sorry," I start, feeling awful for avoiding her during my estrangement from Edward.

"Please, it's not important, it truly isn't," she insists. "I know how you must have been feeling, it's not difficult to understand," she adds, reassuring me.

"Thank you, Esme," I reply, feeling much less guilty.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Let me show you to your room. I did some redecorating, I hope you like it," she says.

Edward is talking to Carlisle, chatting and catching up. Carlisle is wearing a black polo shirt and flat front khakis that frankly, don't leave much to the imagination when looked at from the back _or_ the front. He turns toward me and winks his pretty blue eye at me. My knees turn to jello.

_Oh dear God. Dr. Daddy just winked at me. _

_WINKED AT ME. _

_Listen playa, I'm doing your son. You're going to be my father-in-law and grandpa to my kids one day. Learn how to conduct yourself. For shame!_

_Fuck me sideways. Wink again! Wink again!!!_

I say a quick hello to him, grateful that Esme is waiting to help me get settled in. If I had to hug him, I could not be held responsible for where my hand would go groping.

_Because DAMN._

Esme leads me to the guest room I stayed in during my visit over the winter break. She's completely changed the room around. The furniture has been replaced with items that are more feminine, and they're that "shabby chic" style that is pretty but relaxed. The bed has a beautiful white wrought iron frame and two little white nightstands on either side.

"Do you like it?" Esme asks.

"Esme, it's perfect. I hope you didn't do all this redecorating just for me," I say, feeling completely overindulged by her once again.

"Well, much like Virginia Woolf, I firmly believe that every woman should have a room of her own," she says playfully, her happy eyes making me feel very content.

I take a closer look inside and see that there's a large antique desk in the corner, perfect for reading or writing thoughts down. On top of it is a framed reproduction of Jane Austen's portrait.

"It's perfect," I repeat. More articulate words escape me.

"Bella, I want you to know that this room will always be yours. You can stay here anytime, even if you need to be alone and away from everyone, including my son. Everyone needs a sanctuary. I know that your decision to spend the summer with us wasn't entered into lightly, considering how you've only just reconciled with Edward. I would be very saddened if for any reason you felt 'trapped' here," she says with a reassuring smile. I smile back.

"Thank you, Esme," I say, feeling very grateful indeed.

The weeks pass in a happy blur. Esme arranges for me to volunteer at a literacy program for young mothers trying to return to school and get their high school diplomas. I find the work to be extremely satisfying, important and fun. I get to hold a lot of babies too, which surprisingly I enjoy very much. I'm also not at all bad at it—I don't even come close to dropping one, and it's calming for me to gently bounce them in my arms.

About halfway through the summer, Edward and I are spending our Saturday outside, enjoying an unseasonably mild afternoon.

"Edward, I have a really bad feeling about this," I say with a laugh even though I'm partially serious.

"Come on Bella, this was your idea. Besides, I tried buying you body armor but the Pentagon wouldn't sell it to me—something about government secrets," he teases. "But you are wearing just about the most protective gear you possibly can—even you can avoid injury with that much padding," he jokes.

We're outside Edward's high rise in Chicago, sitting on his new BMW K1200 GT motorcycle. I'm wearing a helmet, a full leather riding suit with built in knee pads and elbow pads, gloves, and boots. He refused to consider getting the bike without me agreeing to mummify myself in leather and hard plastic. He's taken several lessons for the past several weeks and rides everyday, so he feels confident enough to let me ride with him.

Carlisle and Esme weren't exactly thrilled with the purchase—Carlisle especially, since being an Emergency Room physician had given him a lot of experience with treating people in motorcycle accidents. But my mummification and Edward's lessons persuaded them to grudgingly go along with it.

Edward turns around and smiles.

_My man, on a motorcycle, wearing a shiny black helmet and a black leather jacket. _

_Swoon._

"Let's do this thing," I say, trying to psych myself up.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah, say a prayer," I joke.

I put my arms around his waist. He leans on the kick start with me clinging to him for dear life. He lifts his feet up and we speed down the street, gliding the whole way. I also shriek the whole way. This feels a lot like the time when Edward and I slid down the banister at our house on Meyer Lane—but this time, my eyes are wide open.

_It's all about possibilities. It's all about taking a giant bite out of life and savoring every last morsel. It's time to start a new chapter in the book of Bella and I am so up for it._


	21. Epilogue: Moving Pictures

**I do not own Twilight, I just hate the cockblocking.**

**Epilogue: Moving Pictures**

_"you and me and all of the people  
with nothing to do  
nothing to prove  
and it's you and me and all of the people  
and I don't know why  
I can't keep my eyes off of you_

_what day is it?  
and in what month?  
this clock never seemed so alive"_

—Lifehouse, "You and Me"

_Amazing how this room gets messy in the blink of an eye._

I'm cleaning toys and books and half eaten crackers off of every flat surface in the family room of my house.

I stop to straighten the framed photos on the mantle. There are so many pictures I had Edward put an extra shelf over it to make more space. I look over all the memories captured on film and inspect each one with a smile on my face. Soon I'm lost in lovely daydreams.

The first photo I look at is of Edward and me at his Dartmouth graduation. He's in his cap and gown and we have our arms around each other, completely and utterly in love. I look especially ecstatic, and for good reason.

_Spring 2010_

"_Edward, do you need me to iron anything?" I call out to him from outside the bathroom where he's almost ready to start getting dressed._

_Today is Edward's graduation and I'm trying to make sure everything is all set before we leave our apartment to go to Commencement._

"_No, my clothes are fine, thanks," he answers._

_Just then he opens the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. He's clean shaven and his hair is a still a little damp but messy and wild as always. He puts his hand through it unconsciously like he always does._

"_Hi, beautiful," he purrs, kissing my neck and groping my butt._

_I laugh and push him off me gently._

"_We don't have time," I remind him but I'm really trying to remind myself too._

"_As you wish," he relents, kissing my hand._

"_I'm going to grab myself some coffee from the kitchen, do you want some?" I ask._

"_No thank you, I'm just going to get dressed really quick," he replies, smacking my behind as he walks passed me and into our bedroom._

_A few minutes later I hear him call for me._

"_Can you bring me my cap and gown? They're hanging in the hall closet," he asks._

_I open the closet door and reach for his things. But before I take them, I notice that the cap has something tied to the mortarboard, where the tassel hangs. It's a red ribbon with something heavy on the end of it. I slip off the ribbon to get a closer look._

_I gasp._

_In my hand is a diamond ring—a beautiful, huge, ostentatious diamond solitaire ring._

"_Bella sweetness," Edward says, behind me on one knee and smiling._

_I turn and face him and he takes my hands in his._

"_I can't really explain in words what you mean to me, because I don't think I could do it justice—trying to describe how much I love you and how you always make me happy," he says, holding my hands in his._

_I'm just a crying mess. The ring, the bended knee, the unexpectedness of it all, it's reduced me to a Buddle once again._

"_Bella, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"_

"_Yes, Edward, of course!"I reply without hesistation, laughing and crying at the same time._

_He takes the ring from my hand and slips it on my finger, smiling at me from ear to ear._

"_Edward…" I murmur, trying to talk but having trouble from being so choked up._

_He looks at me. I think he knows what I'm about to say at long last, after holding it inside me for an entire year._

"_I love you, Edward. I love you," I say, the words pouring out of me, finally free from where I kept them locked up and unspoken. I wrap my arms around him and sob into his freshly pressed shirt._

"_I love you too, Bella," he says, lifting my chin and kissing me sweetly._

With a wistful smile I look at the next framed photo. This one is of my own graduation two years later. We were extremely fortunate in that Edward was accepted to Dartmouth's medical school and there wasn't any need for us to be forced to try having a long distance relationship.

We had to rush off to Chicago literally the day this picture was taken. Edward and I were getting married later that summer and heading to France for our honeymoon, so we planned on spending the entire summer in Chicago, have the wedding there and then leave for our honeymoon. One weekend early that summer in particular comes to mind.

_Memorial Day Weekend 2012_

"_Mmm, Bella, I can't keep my hands off you when you've got one of your bikinis on," Edward groans into my ear, his hand on my bare butt._

_I've come to accept my fate as a g-string bikini wearer. I had no chance in winning this battle when Edward, Alice and Rosalie were all my opponents. Seeing how excited it made Edward did make for a nice trade-off though._

_Esme and Carlisle are away for the long weekend and so Edward and I have the indoor pool all to ourselves. The two of us have been very busy with our summer jobs—Edward continuing his med school studies as a summer intern alongside his father, and I returned to volunteering at the literacy program, now in my fourth consecutive year._

"_Uhhhn, that feels so good," I purr into his ear as he slips his hand inside the flimsy material of my bikini top._

"_Bella I really, really need to have my way with you," he growls._

What, like I'm stopping you?

_I'm lying down on one of the chaise longues next to the pool, Edward pressing his weight on top of me and prying my legs apart. I happily oblige. Our slick bodies move against each other and I eagerly lower his board shorts, groping him while he pulls my bikini top off with one quick motion._

_I just need him inside me right now. It's been more than a week since we've had any fun at all. We haven't even made out. Edward worked constantly and I just got over a bad bout of stomach flu, not keeping anything down, not even water._

"_Now Edward, please now, now, now…" I beg, my voice urgent and demanding._

_He presses into me quickly because neither one of us is feeling like we can wait any longer. I'm kissing him so hard my lips are hurting but I don't care. This is like an itch I just need to scratch. I wrap my legs around his waist and work my hips like a madwoman. He has one hand on my breast while Magic Thumb goes exactly where I need it to be. I'm over the edge pretty fast._

God, I'm ridiculously horny. No Sex + Edward in board shorts = Horn-dog Bella

"_Uhhhn, yes, yes, fuuuuck," I moan loudly._

_Edward doesn't even have the patience to talk. He grunts into my neck while finishing off inside me frantically. There are times for slow romantic encounters and then there are other times when a girl just needs to get screwed soundly and go on about her day._

_The next day Edward comes down with my stomach flu and spends the rest of the weekend in bed and/or puking. His puking causes me to get my usual sympathy nausea and even though I'm not sick, I still can't keep down anything because I'm playing nursemaid to him all day long._

My daydream is interrupted when my eyes fall on the next photograph. It's our wedding portrait. I laugh to myself when I look at the expression on my face. I look positively miserable. It's because I felt miserable. Edward on the other hand, is sporting his trademark 'shit-eating grin,' that face he makes when he's especially pleased with himself. His lips form a sort of half smirk, half pout and his eyes look unbearably playful. He wore a tux on our wedding day and if I wasn't feeling so horrible, I would've spent more time ogling him. I start thinking back to what lead up to me feeling so crappy.

_July 2012_

"_Bella? Bella, wake up sweetness, you've overslept again," I hear Edward say as he rubs my back to bring me out of my sleepy haze._

"_Uhnnng, sooo tired, just so tired," I mutter._

_Edward puts his hand on my forehead to see if I'm running a fever._

"_Bella this is the third day in a row you can't get out of bed. Last night you passed out snoring at 7:30," he tells me._

"_I'm coming down with some bug. My throat doesn't feel right," I say, still not able to open my eyes._

_Edward tries a more direct approach to wake me up. He slides up behind me and puts his hand on my breast while kissing my neck. His hand grazes my nipple and his fingers play with it, pinching it._

"_Ow," I say, gasping at how much that hurt. "My boobs are killing me," I add, noticing how odd that is considering I don't really get tenderness there._

That's odd.

"_Bella?" Edward says with sudden concern in his voice. "When was…" he tries to ask._

_I sit bolt upright like a shot, my eyes suddenly very open and very wide. My hair is a wild mess and the strap of my nightgown is hanging limply off my shoulder._

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…

"_OHMYGOD,MYPERIOD,WHENWASMYPERIOD?" I exclaim, the words flying out like bats out of a cave._

"_You don't remember?" he asks, a little alarmed that I lost track of such a thing. He sits up and faces me._

"_My pills…I was supposed to start them over when I got my period so that I wouldn't have it over the honeymoon. That was…was…FUCK…that was like three weeks ago!" I pant, feeling frantic beyond words. My heart is racing._

"_You were expecting your period three weeks ago?" he asks, trying to do the math in his head. He grabs my desk calendar and starts counting backwards._

"_Yes. What kind of a moron doesn't notice that her period doesn't come?" I ask rhetorically, in a full blown panic. "How did this happen? I thought the pill was like 100 million percent effective?!?" I demand, wanting to know exactly what went haywire._

"_Bella, if I'm figuring this out right, you conceived…around…the end of May," he says, the penny suddenly dropping for both of us._

"_Memorial Day weekend…the pool room, the lounge chair…" I think out loud, my mouth forming a perfect 'o' shape. "Oh God, Edward, we made a baby on a piece of lawn furniture! That's just…wrong!" I gasp. I'm crying at the idea of such an inauspicious beginning for our own child._

_Edward chuckles at my full blown freak-out. I don't see how this is funny. He puts his arm around me to try and calm me down._

"_I don't understand why my pills didn't work," I continue to wonder, my hand over my forehead._

"_Bella, are you sure you took all your pills? You must have missed some," he suggests._

"_Yes, I know I took them all…I mean…" my face turns red._

"_What?" he says, as he eyes me suspiciously._

"_Well, I never always take every single one?" I say like a question._

_He's just looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I bite my lip._

"_You know, there's always a couple that get lost?" I mumble._

_Edward just tilts his head. He's waiting for me to spit it out already._

"_I usually drop one or two every month—I'm really clumsy in the morning. They bounce down the drain before I can catch them," I explain, feeling like a complete idiot._

"_Missing one or two shouldn't make a difference, unless they're consecutive, then maybe. Anything else you can remember, any other reason why you wouldn't take a pill?" he asks, trying to jog my memory._

"_I can't think of anything, I mean that weekend wasn't exactly anything to write home about. You caught my stomach flu. I went from puking all the time from having the upset stomach myself, to puking all the time from watching you get sick all day," I reply._

"_You were throwing up a lot? I was working that entire week non-stop so I could have the weekend off, I didn't see much of you," he says, only now finding out a piece of information that would prove to be key in all this._

"_Oh, it was awful. I couldn't even keep down…" I say, my voice trailing off as I realize something rather devastatingly important but altogether too late to do anything about it. "Couldn't even keep down…" I try to repeat._

"_The water you took with your pills?" Edward offers, nodding his head as he speaks._

"…_the water I took with my pills…" I say, staring blankly into space, covering my mouth with my hand._

_All of a sudden, he's laughing and laughing at how idiotic I am. He's sort of justified, really._

"_So, between dropping two pills down the sink and vomiting them up solid week of them, I think it's safe to assume that you pretty much completely invalidated your birth control…completely inadvertently," Edward says, shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear._

_I can't respond because I'm sobbing. I can't believe, first, that I literally went brain dead with keeping track of my cycle; second, that there was only one possible time this accident happened, and it wasn't exactly a meaningful, loving encounter; and third…no one in the right mind should trust me to have a baby for more than a few hours, let alone grow an entire baby inside my body._

"_Bella sweetness, don't be upset, please," Edward says as he moves a lock of my hair out of my eyes. "This is happy news," he adds, smiling and kissing my hand. _

"_But, I…this…we…" I stammer incoherently._

"_OK, the timing isn't perfect, but we are getting married in three weeks," he reasons._

_He pulls me onto his lap and I softly cry into his shoulder._

"_But…school," I hiccup. "We're going back to New Hampshire next month, I'm supposed to be starting school," I say._

_I was just accepted into a two year Master's program in Comparative Literature at Dartmouth. I'd be finished when Edward is done with medical school. After that, we plan on moving to Chicago._

"_You can still go to school. You'll just need bigger clothes," he teases._

_I laugh because that actually was quite humorous._

"_It's all so sudden, I don't know how we'll manage—school and a baby," I say, wondering if I can handle this kind of responsibility._

_Edward puts his hand on my abdomen below my belly button and kisses my cheek._

"_Bella, it'll work out. I seem to remember you telling me once that 'things will happen the way they're supposed to.' I'm pretty sure this is one of those things," he tells me._

"_I did say that, didn't I?" I say, feeling buoyed by Edward's optimism._

_He smiles and kisses me sweetly._

"_I'm not sure how to have a baby and not miss classes," I say, laughing at absurd it sounded for me to say 'have a baby' out loud._

"_Bella," Edward says with a laugh, "do you honestly think you'll be short on babysitters? My mother will descend on New Hampshire with an entire staff of people at your disposal. Alice will be over every weekend from Boston—I'd bet money on that," he tells me._

_Things didn't seem quite so muddled and daunting now. Edward is right, we'll figure it out. Lots of people have babies. I think about the young mothers I've been helping all summer, every summer. They had a lot fewer resources than I do, and almost no support—financial, emotional or otherwise. If my students could manage, I'm sure I could too._

"_Esme," I say, smiling brightly. "Can I tell Esme?" I ask, feeling the need to share this with someone who I know would be happy to hear it._

"_We should probably make sure you are actually pregnant," Edward says, his smile still as bright as ever._

"_Oh," I say, realizing that maybe I was getting ahead of myself. There could be other reasons why I haven't gotten my period. The stress of all the wedding plans, plus working—those things could cause me to miss a cycle._

_I feel sad all of a sudden. I was just getting used to the idea, I would hate for it to not even really be happening._

"_Are you OK?" Edward asks._

"_I don't…" I start to say but I choke on my words. "I don't want the baby to be gone," I say and start crying again._

"_Bella, you have a lot of symptoms, you should just take a test and then we'll know for sure," he says, kissing my forehead._

_A short while later, I'm standing in my bathroom and holding my breath. I look down at the long rectangular piece of plastic on the counter in front of me. When I notice the little display window, I start to cry again._

_Edward peers in and comes inside. He hugs me and tries to comfort me._

"_Don't cry Bella, we can try for a baby right away if you want, whatever makes you happy," he offers, hoping to dispel my disappointment._

"_No, it's alright," I say, wiping my eyes. "I don't think we need to," I add._

_I look at him and smile._

"_It's positive," I tell him._

I pick up the wedding portrait to study it more closely. I felt so nauseous on my own wedding day. My face actually looks green. Most people attributed the nausea to nerves and no one knew except Edward, me, and his parents. There was no way I couldn't run straight to Esme as soon as the test confirmed what Edward and I suspected. I needed someone to talk to that had been through it and besides, she would be thrilled. So of course Carlisle had to be included as well. He ended up referring me to one of the best doctors in Chicago for my first prenatal visit.

Putting the picture frame back in its usual spot, I smile at my handsome groom's face.

_It's like he's thinking 'been there, tapped that, left a baby in it.'_

There was one thing about me in the picture that looked good—I had on the prettiest antique diamond earrings. On the night before the wedding, Edward offered me his great-grandmother's earrings again, like he did on New Year's Eve four years before. This time he was more insistent, saying that someone had to hang on to them until the baby was old enough to have them. I couldn't resist his logic.

Next I look at one of my most favorite photos of all. It's the first picture taken of Edward and me as a new little family. Our faces are side by side as I hold in my arms the result of our frisky little tryst in a lawn chair. I insisted we name him Edward Anthony, just like his father, but oddly enough I never call him that. Ever since we brought him home from the hospital, I developed a habit of calling him Tony and it just stuck. Although at the ripe old age of eight, he now insists on being called Anthony.

Just as Edward had predicted, Esme and Alice were all too eager to help with the baby. Esme even bought herself a small condo near our apartment in New Hampshire so that I could continue going to school while she helped with Tony. She absolutely dotted on her grandson and they adored each other.

We have all kinds of photos of our friends during their happy memories as well. There's one of Alice and Jasper at their wedding in Philadelphia, where I was maid of honor. Next to that is a first portrait of Brandon, their baby and my godson.

Another picture is of Rosalie and Emmett at their wedding in Rochester, where I was not in the bridal party because Rosalie refused to have one. Next to that is a family portrait of the McCarty clan from last Christmas—all _seven_ of them. Somehow Emmett managed to talk Rosalie into having one baby. To most people's utter shock, she absolutely loved pregnancy and motherhood. So much so that she's been pregnant consistently for the past eight years and just had her fifth baby right before Thanksgiving. She keeps accusing Emmett of replacing her birth control with Tic-Tacs, but I've never seen anyone so happy to trade her Manalos for a pair of Uggs.

My eyes settle on another wedding picture. Now this couple and how they came to be still surprised me to this day. The fact that the bride has been a close friend of mine for years is also a little mind-boggling.

_Tanya Denali is one of my best friends. But her mom still hates me._

Tanya spent six months in treatment after Edward and I shipped her home to her parents my freshman year. She came back a different person. I think her addictions were masking some deeper issues that treatment forced her to assess and take control of. Part of her recovery involved mending her relationships, so when she began calling and emailing me my sophomore year, I gave her an honest chance. I'm so glad I did because she sincerely wanted a friendship. Before we knew it, she was coming up to Dartmouth every few weekends to hang out. And then something so bizarre and amazing happened that I still don't know what to make of it.

Tanya Denali, heiress and Chicago high society debutante, met Mike Newton, the son of a sporting goods store owner…and they fell madly in love. Mike had no idea that Tanya came from so much money, I think he just saw her as a beautiful, smart girl from Yale who tried really hard to lose her pretensions and be a real person. And there must have been something about Mike's uncomplicated Midwestern charm that stole her heart.

They got married the year before Edward and I did and they've been two lovesick fools ever since. Tanya is now the heiress to the vast Newton Sporting Goods empire, living in cosmopolitan Sheboygan, Wisconsin with her husband, three kids, a dog and a minivan. All jokes aside, I really believe that this completely boring and ordinary lifestyle was exactly what Tanya needed and wanted for herself. The proof is in the pudding—she just emailed me a .jpg yesterday of her ultrasound. She's ten weeks along with baby number four.

"Hi, Mom," I hear from behind me. I turn and smile at my son.

"Hi, Tony," I reply, running my hand through his thick bronze hair. Tony looked like a mixture of people in our family, but his hair was all Edward.

"Mom, it's Anthony now," he insists.

"Right, I apologize, _Anthony_," I say, trying very, very hard not to laugh.

"Where's Dad?" he asks.

"Upstairs somewhere—his study, maybe?" I reply.

"Mom, I need your advice. It's rather important," he informs me.

_Rather important, I see. This kid is the most serious eight year old I've ever met. And it makes me just want to kiss his cheeks all over._

"Of course, tell me what you need help with," I oblige.

"There's a new girl in my class. She just moved here. Mrs. Turner switched our seats and she sits next to me," he explains. "I try to be her friend, but when I ask her if she needs to borrow my markers, she just looks away," he laments.

"It sounds like she's just shy. I bet if you gave her a little time, she'd warm up to you," I say, speaking from a depth of personal experience. "She might be acting shy because she has a crush on you," I add, smiling at him.

He's thoughtful for a moment. And then I see it. The one trait that plagues me and now it plagues my poor son. He's blushing furiously.

"I just want to be her friend, Mom," he objects. The blushing tells another story. "And I think her behavior is perplexing," he adds. His vocabulary and observations make me shake my head and giggle.

_Hmm, perplexing members of the opposite sex. Sounds familiar._

"What are you reading?" I ask as he flops down on the couch with a book.

"Dracula," he says. "Dad said I could," he adds.

_Figures. Corrupting his own child. It's depraved._

I'm almost done rearranging my framed pictures when I gaze at one of my very favorite ones. It's of Edward, smiling a huge toothy grin with his eyes closed. On other side of his face are two little profiles kissing his stubbly cheeks.

I finally finished up my doctoral program a year and a half ago, and with perfect timing on my second go around, gave birth to my twin daughters a few weeks later. Portia and Emma are upstairs, hopefully napping.

I had a much easier time with the girls—emotionally at least. I was prepared this time and not nearly as nervous. However, Edward and I had an odd role-reversal. He was the very nervous one this time. Once we found out we were having twins, he seemed a little apprehensive because of the complications that can happen. But when we learned the twins were both girls, it was like he lost a bit of his sanity—OK, maybe a lot of his sanity.

_Edward now has three females to get insanely possessive over. That's a lot of irrational jealousy for one person._

I look up when I hear the sound of Edward's footfalls. He's got a chubby toddler in each arm.

"You woke them up, didn't you?" I ask, squinting my eyes at him playfully. Two little mouths yawn in unison to confirm my suspicions.

"I couldn't help it, they kept saying 'mama' in their sleep," he tells me sheepishly.

Edward hasn't changed much at all in the twelve years I've been with him. He looks just as gorgeous as the day I met him. His face filled out ever so slightly in the first couple of years we dated, giving him a more masculine air. Other than that, he looked exactly the same. Not a gray hair on his head, not one ounce of fat. I, one the other hand, still have pregnancy weight to work off, although Edward does tell me he likes my butt a little on the rounder side. Still, he could pass for 21 again if he wanted to but I never could. I hate him.

_Who am I kidding? I sleep with that every night—what's there to be bitter about?_

"I should get some food ready before your parents get here to take the kids," I say.

Edward has a rare night off from work where he's not even on call. He's finishing up his residency at the same hospital Carlisle practices at. I'm so glad he'll be done soon because then he'll be in private practice and his schedule will be much less busy. He going to specialize in family medicine, a decision he made entirely on his own. The only restriction I placed on his choice—NO gynecology. None. He knew better than to argue.

_I'd don't care if she's 105, he's not putting his head between anyone's legs but yours truly._

A few hours later, the kids are fed and happily off to grandma's for the night. I wave through the open front door, then turn and shut it closed.

Edward is staring at me. I twirl my hair.

_Uh oh._

His head slowly tilts to one side. I lick my lips.

_Heh heh heh._

His right eyebrow goes up, up, up… I roll my right shoulder toward him and sigh.

_Come to mama._

His nostrils are flaring.

_WOOOOT! Git R Done, baybee!_

"Bellaaa," he growls, "don't tease me," he warns.

"Oh Edward," I pout. "I've been such a naughty, naughty girl," I say, ripping that pin from the grenade with my teeth and laughing.

He lowers his head and glares at me through his intense low brow and I know if I play my cards right, I'm in for a treat.

"Fuck me," I purr.

And then I run upstairs to our bedroom with Edward close at my heels. I'm heading straight for the bathroom counter because sometimes a girl just needs to get screwed and go on about her day. Or you know, have a bath and then some dessert.

**THE END**


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